


Flowersinnerhair

by Ozma (OzmatheGreatandTerrible)



Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: Blushing, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Young Love, post TJM
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2019-07-24 09:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16172633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OzmatheGreatandTerrible/pseuds/Ozma
Summary: After San Lorenzo, Arnold takles the seemingly impossible task of accepting and returning Helga's love.Inspired by that moment in 'Helga and the Nanny' when Arnold said that Helga looked kinda nice with flowers in her hair.





	1. pink roses

Arnold woke up on the fifth day back home thinking about her. Helga.

Last night, and every night since they’d been reunited, his parents had tucked him in.

“Are you sure you’re not too old for this?” they’d asked.

“We can stop when I turn 18,” Arnold had assured them.

Before, the ritual had been grandpa telling him stories about his parents. Now every night he got stories directly from the source. And he told his own stories, too. Stories about getting stuck on the subway, running through a haunted graveyard, and saving the neighborhood. Helga was in all the stories. 

If it hadn’t been for her, he wouldn’t have his parents.

He thought back to that moment in the hidden city. Helga had opened up to him before, but he hadn’t been ready for it. There had been more important things at stake. And honestly, he had always felt like his heart was empty, like no matter how many good and nice things he did for others, he couldn’t be happy. 

But the past week had filled him with more happiness than he knew what to do with. They’d spent a few days in San Lorenzo while his parents made sure they were completely cured from the sleeping sickness and that the Green-Eyed People were going to be okay. They’d feasted and spent a whole day in the city proper. The Helpers for Humanity set up their whole class, the parents and the grandparents included, in a great hotel. The five-star treatment more than made up for what they’d all gone through under La Sombra’s imprisonment. Plus, his parents had a long talk with their organization, got a stipend for their time being comatose, and took on research jobs that would allow them to work from home in Hillwood. 

Through all that, Helga hadn’t sought him out. Occasionally he ran into her around the hotel, but they didn’t have time to talk. She just smiled fondly at him and called him “Football Head” without any malice in it.

 *

Now, five days after they returned from San Lorenzo and less than three weeks until summer was over, he was having a crisis. 

She’d been in his dream.

She was in his thoughts constantly. 

He’d meant what he’d said. He’d always – actually since maybe second grade – wondered what Helga’s motivations were. Wondered if there was something more. Helga was more complex than the other girls. He’d always liked her, and sometimes, when Helga showed her kinder side, he wondered if he could ever  like  like her.

“I  _do_ like like her,” he groaned, blushing and pulling the covers up over his head. Unbidden, the memory of kissing her in the hidden city bubbled to the surface of his mind.

As he got out of bed, he realized he hadn’t seen Helga since everyone parted ways at the airport.

He got dressed and eagerly bounded down the stairs, excited to have breakfast with his whole family. His mom and dad had taken over the cooking. Secretly, everyone thought it was a good idea. Grandma was thankfully still in good physical shape, but she could use some rest.

“Today it’s eggs benedict,” Miles announced, entering the dining room with the tray held high. Stella followed him in with a carafe of fresh juice. After he’d eaten, Arnold announced that he wanted to spend the day with friends. His parents hugged and kissed him as they sent him out the door, his father slipping some spending money into his jacket pocket – “For ice cream”. 

As Arnold walked down the street, though, his eye caught the front window of Mrs. Vitello’s shop and he decided his allowance would be better spent on a gift for Helga. He blushed again.

“H-hi Mrs. Vitello,” he greeted as he entered the shop.

“Hello, Arnold. Coming to buy some flowers for your mom?” she smiled. A few days ago, the boarding house had hosted a welcome home party for Miles and Stella. The entire neighborhood had shown up and the festivities lasted well past Arnold’s bedtime.

“Not today,” Arnold replied. “I actually wanted to get a bouquet for… a girl.” 

“Really!” Mrs. Vitello came out from behind the counter, interested. “A special girl?”

“Yeah, she’s… she’s something else.”

“What do you want to say to her?”

“I… I – what?”

“The language of flowers, Arnold,” Mrs. Vitello explained. “Flowers mean something. Here,” she picked a tulip from a vase. “Tulips mean a declaration of love. Violets – “ she held up a small potted plant “ – mean faithfulness.”

Arnold’s eyes lingered on the yellow tulips, but then he thought better of it.  Love was a little too serious. “How about a flower that says ‘thank you’?”

“Pink roses!” Mrs. Vitello swooned. “Deep pink.” She pulled from the wall of roses a flower the shade of Helga’s bow. It was perfect.

“I’ll take a dozen.”

 

 

* * *

Arnold was halfway to Helga’s house when he remembered that she didn’t live there anymore. He stopped dead and felt suddenly very embarrassed and very worried. What would Helga say when he showed up at her dad’s store? Would she be ashamed and turn him away? To others, Helga was tough as nails, but Arnold had seen past it enough times to know it was a front. Helga was a sensitive girl, deep down, and she would hate pity.

More importantly, how could he have let it escape his mind that his classmate was in such a desperate situation? Forgetting the fact that he owed Helga a thousand times over for the acts of devotion she’d accomplished for him, he wasn’t normally so selfish that he forgot when someone was in need. He turned around and headed for the Beeper Emporium, hoping that by presenting Helga with the flowers immediately he could get into her good graces.

The parking lot was mostly deserted. Arnold hastily adjusted his hat and shirt and pushed through. The sound of the bell overhead was so loud in the quiet space it nearly startled him into dropping the flowers.

Helga was standing over one of the display cases, carefully cleaning it so that it sparkled.

“A-arnold!” she dropped the rag she’d been using. Her eyes narrowed. “What are  you doing here, Football Head?”

In the past, Arnold would have admitted defeat and walked away. He had always respected Helga’s need to lash out. She wasn’t ready. She was being defensive on purpose. He’d learned all of those things over time, but now, he steeled himself and remembered how tenderly she’d held out her locket to him, literally handing her heart over.  _This girl loves me_ , he reminded himself, stepping forward boldly and holding the flowers out.

“I came to say thank you, Helga.”

The tension in her shoulders dropped. “What?”

“Deep pink roses mean ‘thank you’,” he explained. “I liked them because they’re the same color as your bow.”

Gently, she accepted them. Arnold wasn’t sure, but he thought her eyes were tearing up.

 “I won’t ever be able to say thank you enough times, but…” he finished, the boldness draining out of him as she sighed, burying her face in them.

“They’re _beautiful_ ,” she whispered, and Arnold felt his heart stutter. It was rare to hear Helga’s softer voice, and he found that he really liked it.

“So, yeah. That’s it. I can tell you’re busy, so…” a thought occurred to him. “Do you need any help?”

“What, really?” her tone was teasing.

Arnold blushed. “I don’t have any other plans today.”

“Okay. Let me just go put these in water. I’ll be right back.”

While she was gone, Arnold looked around. The beeper store really had seen better days. There were a few displays of pay as you go phones and landline phones, too. It didn’t look as though Bob Pataki was making any effort to bring in new, modern clients.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Helga’s voice interrupted him. She had her hands on her hips and was scowling – not at him, thankfully. “This place is more dated than the dinosaur exhibit at the museum.”

He laughed and she grinned.

“I’ll be here all week,” she quipped, tossing him a feather duster.

They spent the next hour dusting and vacuuming the shop. Eventually, Bob himself surfaced, wearing a wrinkled polo and a five o’clock shadow.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Helga drawled. “You missed the big rush.”

“Don’t get smart with me, girl,” he growled, making his way to the cash registers.

“Excuse me, Mr. Pataki, can Helga come out and play now?” Arnold asked. Helga lifted her heavy brow at him. ‘Play?’ she mouthed. Arnold shrugged.

Bob made no answer but waved his hand in the direction of the door. Arnold grabbed Helga’s hand and pulled her along before he had the opportunity to change his mind.

Three blocks later he let go. Helga was staring at him. 

“What’s gotten into you, Arnoldo?” she snapped.

“Sorry.” 

“Whatever.” She crossed her arms, but he could see that she was blushing faintly.

“Do you want to get some ice cream?” The flowers had been a bit expensive, but he had just enough for a scoop or two or even a malt.

“Are you asking me on a date, Football Head?” she scoffed.

Arnold grinned. “I am.”

She really blushed at that and muttered something under her breath.

“Helga?”

“I said – I don’t want it if it’s out of pity, you jerk.”

Arnold blinked. “It’s definitely not.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “Come  _on_ .”

“I want to take you on an ice cream date and tell you how happy you’ve made me by helping me bring my parents home,” he said honestly. She stared at him. “I brought you  flowers .”

Helga smiled then. A real smile. “Okay.”

 

* * *

They talked about more than just his parents. They talked about starting sixth grade and about the wrestling tournament coming to town and what they wanted to do for the rest of the summer.

“I will be doing pretty much what you found me doing this morning,” Helga announced, swirling her spoon around the bottom of her malt glass. “Cleaning. Rearranging outdated tech in hopes that someone will buy it.”

“Helga…”

“No pity, Arnoldo,” she chided him.

“I could come help,” he offered.

“Bob won’t like it,” she interjected. “He’s too prideful. He’ll think you want to be paid – ”

“I don’t – “

“Which will make him think you pity us. I really appreciate it and I wish you could, but it wouldn’t work out.”

Arnold paid for their treats and offered to walk her home.

“What a gentleman!” Helga exclaimed. “Don’t worry about me, Football Head. I’d better get back fast and whip something up for dinner, anyway.” She started to walk away, thought better of it, and came back. “Thank you for the flowers. No one ever gave me flowers before, and coming from  you …”

Arnold reached out and grabbed her hand.

“You don’t have to thank me. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, Helga. I – ” he almost told her that he liked her, liked her a lot, but thought better of it.

She snatched her hand back, blushing furiously. “What’s gotten into you?” she said again, quieter this time.

“Call me tomorrow when you’re done helping out at the store, okay?”

She rolled her eyes. “So we can ‘play’?”

“Sure. We can play. I was thinking of calling up Gerald and the others for baseball or something.”

She laughed, and he thought there was some relief in it. “Yeah. Okay. That sounds peachy.”

They parted ways and Arnold walked back home, his steps getting lighter and faster as he approached the boarding house. His parents were sitting on the front stoop, talking and laughing. As soon as they saw him, he picked up his pace, running up the steps to hug them.

“I missed you so much!”

It was true. As much fun as he’d had with Helga, he’d been anxious to get back to them.

“We missed you, too, son,” Miles said warmly. “Gerald was by earlier. We thought you were with him.”

“Oh. I… I was actually with Helga.”

His parents exchanged a look.

“That pretty blonde girl who was with you in San Lorenzo?” his mother asked.

Arnold was pleased to hear her described as pretty. “Yeah. Helga. I wanted to thank her for helping me find you. It was all thanks to her.”

“We should have her over for dinner,” his mom said. “We need to say thank you, too.”

 

* * *

The next day found Helga exactly where she had been the day before when Arnold arrived, bearing roses.

Roses.

The most romantic flower.

Granted, the meaning had been a message of gratitude. Still, Helga spent most of the night swooning over them, writing a new poem about them, and bemoaning the fact that by morning they had wilted. She hung most of them upside down by the back window, pressed another between the pages of a book, and used the smallest buds as hair decoration. Rather than her usual pigtails, she’d swept half of it back and tucked the flowers in, reaching back and touching them while she worked. By the time she was done with her daily chores, she’d forgotten about them. Phoebe came by as she was contemplating calling Arnold, even though she really didn’t feel like playing baseball.

“We’re all going to the park!” her friend exclaimed. “Arnold’s parents put together a picnic for us.”

Helga balked. “The Shortmans?”

“Yes. Gerald said that Arnold said they specifically want to meet you again and thank you for all of your help.”

“Me?"

“Your hair looks good like that. Perfect for a picnic.”

Helga was in such a daze over Arnold’s parents wanting to meet her that she forgot about her hair and they got to the park.

“Oooo! I’m Helga Pataki and I’ve got flowers in my hair!” Harold teased. “I’m a delicate princess with flowers in my hair! Ha ha!”

Helga felt her hands curl into fists.

“You look beautiful!” Arnold interrupted.

“Oooo!” Harold fell to the ground laughing.

Helga scowled at him. 

“Don’t mind Harold,” Arnold soothed. “If he doesn’t stop, he won’t get any of the dessert my mom packed.”

That shut the older boy up immediately. Helga snickered. 

“Are those the flowers I gave you?” Arnold whispered.

“Um… yeah.”

“Can I take your picture?” he held up a camera that was strapped around his neck. “Mom and dad bought this for me so that we can start documenting family memories, but I’d really like to have a picture of you." 

“I – I guess,” she stuttered. She could see Arnold’s parents a little way off, watching them. He grabbed her hand and sat her on a park bench a little way off from everyone else. It was the same park bench where they’d lost their egg and found it, months ago.

“Turn your head just a little,” he instructed.

When he was done, Helga was surprised by how pretty she looked in the picture.

“My mom thinks you’re pretty,” Arnold admitted sheepishly. “I think she’s right.” He looked over at them. “They want to say thank you, Helga. I told them… that you’re rough around the edges, but you’re actually really nice.”

There was an unspoken plea there; Helga didn’t miss it.

“If I’m being mean, just call me Geraldine, okay?”

He grinned. “Okay.”

They joined everyone else. No one said anything about Helga’s hair. The picnic was wonderful. Helga made a point to tell Arnold’s parents so.

“Have as much as you like, Helga,” Stella said. “We made everything with you in mind.”

“We wanted to meet you again and thank you for everything you did to help Arnold get to San Lorenzo,” Miles added. “He’s so lucky to have such a good friend.”

“I for one would like to know the _whole_ story,” Rhonda gushed. “What exactly happened in the jungle?”

“I HEARD ARNOLD AND HELGA  KISSED !” Sid exclaimed, sending most of the boys into peals of laughter. Helga blushed bright red and reached out to grab him. 

“ _Geraldine_! ” Arnold hissed, grabbing her arm.

“Sorry, Helga,” Gerald shrugged. “I think someone overheard me and Phoebe talking…”

“I don’t think you guys understand what Helga did out there,” Arnold began. His tone was serious. “After you all helped us escape to go find the Green-Eyed People, Helga got us through the jungle. She fought off La Sombra.  Bare-handed . My parents – and all the parents of the Green-Eyed children were in a coma and Helga figured out how to work the machine that dispensed the cure aromatically.” He took a deep breath.

Helga was blushing hard and twisting clumps of grass into knots.

“Given all that, it’s understandable that Arnold would give Helga a kiss out of gratitude,” Phoebe said. A murmur of agreement went around the circle.

“I could just kiss her myself!” Stella interjected playfully.

“Helga’s a hero,” Miles added, and they squashed her between them in a giant hug. Arnold joined in, and everyone else focused their attention on the dessert, the conversation eventually turning to Mr. Simmons. Their teacher had been affected by the trauma of being in the jungle and though they’d all made it out alive and with little injury, mentally they all agreed that it would take a while to heal.

“Anyone else been havin’ nightmares?” Stinky chuckled nervously.

A few people nodded, tense.

Miles and Stella exchanged worried looks.

Arnold noticed and started to say something, but Helga’s hand on his shoulder cut him off. “This is that psycho La Sombra’s fault, Arnold. You can take a little blame for being so gullible, but you weren’t the one that put us through that. He did. Anyway,” she said a little louder, “If I only ever see that creep again in my nightmares I’ll take it. You got your parents back. _Totally_ worth it.”

“Still, I think we should have a parents’ meeting and find a way to help you kids talk about this in a safe space,” Miles added. “Now why don’t you kids go play?”

Harold gathered up what cookies were left and they all spread out around the park, leaving Helga and Arnold lingering behind.

“I think I know someone who could help,” Helga said. “We had a child psychologist visit our school last year. Dr. Bliss. Ask Simmons about her. She’s nice.”

Arnold gave her a questioning look, but said nothing.

“We’ll call a parents’ meeting and suggest that, first thing,” Miles agreed.

“You’re very intelligent and compassionate, Helga. I can see why Arnold likes you so much,” Stella smiled.

“ _Mom_! ” Arnold whined.

Helga snickered. “Bet it feels nice to let one of those loose, eh, Football Head?”

The Shortmans laughed. Arnold looked horrified for a minute, and started to apologize, but joined in the laughter. “It really does.”

“Don’t let us spoil your day,” Stella said, “Run off and enjoy this beautiful weather. You’ll regret not taking advantage of it when school starts up again.”

Arnold reached out and hugged each of them in turn, then he and Helga went off to find their friends.

“Does she remind you of anyone?” Miles asked when they were out of sight.

“If we’re not both thinking of your mother, then I’m still asleep,” Stella deadpanned.

“I guess it skips a generation.”

“The whole ‘schoolyard bully actually has a crush on you’ thing?”

Miles stretched out on the blanket. “They seem to be figuring it out.” 

“I like her,” Stella announced.

* * *

 

 

Helga woke up screaming.

The nightmare had been one of the worse ones, the most repetitive one. La Sombra, falling over the cliff, Arnold with him. The Corazón, too. Everything. Gone. Just Helga alone on the cliff, staring into a void.

Surprisingly, it’s the memory of being squashed in the middle of a Shortman family hug that calms her down.

She reached over and wiggled the mouse of her computer. The monitor sprang to life, displaying a full color picture of her and Arnold taking their bows at the end of  _Romeo and Juliet _. It was 2:45 am.

Helga sighed and rolled over. There was no way she was getting back to sleep.

She looked back at the desktop wallpaper and sighed wistfully. _That_ had been a night to remember. Kicking her sheets aside, she made her way to the employee breakroom and found a bottle of water and some crackers and went back to her ‘room’. Feeling nostalgic, she browsed through her video files until she found the good copy of the play. Even though Bob had actually taken video, he was a shaky camera man and gave up before intermission. Phoebe’s dad had gotten the whole thing, though, filmed on an DSLR camera with a tripod. She happily munched on her crackers and relieved the Shakespearian drama. She was surprised to find that she still remembered most of the lines.

“I bet Miles and Stella would get a kick out of this,” she muttered to herself toward the end.

Inspired, she pulled up a simple video editing program, added intro and end credits and a few fun filters and stickers, then made a copy. By the time she heard Bob stumbling into the breakroom to make his coffee, she was in a much better mood. She took one of the dried roses into the bathroom and crushed some of the petals, rubbing it into the base of her neck when she rinsed her hair in the sink. She really hated not having a proper shower. She hated sleeping on an air mattress in a security closet. All of her things were in storage somewhere. Olga still had her teaching stipend and scholarship so she could live in a dorm. As soon as the plane landed, she’d kissed Bob, pinched Helga’s cheek, and hopped the nearest cab.

Still, she had one thing that kept her going.

The thing that always kept her going.

Her love for Arnold.

She tucked the DVD of the play behind the register and started in on her work after hunting down a bowl od cereal. Bob had shut himself up in his office, presumably not to show himself until he got hungry enough. Helga made a mental note to wheedle Miriam into doing a bit of grocery shopping. Last night she’s made a meaty pasta in the electric hotplate, but she’d used up all the ground beef they had left, fearing it would go bad if it went unused one more day. Bob needed meat. Even a tuna casserole would do. On her way back from the bathroom midmorning she checked her stash. There was definitely enough for some food, but it was dwindling fast and she’d need new shoes before school started.

Miriam was asleep as usual when she went to go find her.

“Mom,” she prodded. “Mom.  _Miriam!_ ”

The frail woman rolled over and jerked, hitting her head against the wall. “Olga?” she whispered, reaching around for her glasses. They were on the floor. Helga felt tempted to step on them. Instead, she picked them up and rubbed them with the hem of her skirt.

“It’s Helga.”

“Oh! Sweetie. You’re up so early.”

Helga rolled her eyes. “It’s past _noon_ , Miriam." 

“Is it?” Miriam’s eyes widened.  

“It is indeed, m’lady,” Helga said, putting on a fake smile. “I need to go buy some groceries. I want to make a tuna casserole for dinner.” 

“My purse is around here somewhere…” Helga found it under the cot and pulled it free. Glass clinked. Helga looked away, closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. 

She didn’t know anything about finances. She knew that they couldn’t afford to live in their house so they were renting it out. She knew the store wasn’t making any money. Their last sale had been the day after they returned from San Lorenzo. A simple, inelegant digital camera. She knew Bob spent most of the day in his office, ‘crunching numbers’ and listening to sports news on the radio. The big screen television had been one of the first things he’d sold, loudly bosting that he’d have a bigger one once business was booming again. She knew he gave Miriam money for food. And now, judging from how they’d been eating and the empties under the bed, Helga imagined how much better they could have it. She took the crumpled bills from her mother wordlessly and went to finish the list of tasks Bob had left her.

He wrote it at the end of every day and left it by the register. For the most part it included cleaning duties, but occasionally she had to count inventory or put up advertisement. The latter was humiliating, but she saved it for last since it gave her an excuse to leave.

She didn’t know anything about finances, but if Miriam laid off the smoothies they could at least have some fresh food and maybe Helga could have an actual mattress. One of those shower heads that attaches to sink faucets. Helga tucked the  Romeo and Juliet DVD under one arm and a pile of fliers under another, grabbed a stapler and headed out.

It was a hotter day, and Helga was grateful that she’d washed her hair. It was still slightly damp, and whenever she passed a shop with box fans out front she could smell the crushed rose petals on the back of her neck.

Bob never told her precisely where to put up fliers, but she thought it best to stick them outside shops and in busy areas. At least that way she would know for sure that the business was failing not for lack of customers, but for lack of interest in the product.

She was just hammering a few outside Slausen’s, delighting in the weight of the stapler in her hand and remembering being with Arnold at the counter, eating a scoop of rocky road ice cream, when she heard laughter.

Sid, Harold and Stinky were walking out with cones towering all different flavors. Harold saw her first, and he leaned forward with a mocking expression on his face, but Stinky elbowed him in the ribs.

“Hi there, Helga,” he greeted.

“What’s shaking?” she returned.

“Do you need some help, Helga?” Sid piped up.

“I’ve only got one stapler,” she said, too stunned to say anything else.

“That’s alright, hand some here. We’re going to pick up some mutton for Harold’s Ma. Mr. Green’ll give us some tape and we can put some in his window and some of the other shops along the way.” He nudged Harold with his elbow.

“Uh. Yeah. Mr. Green wont’ mind,” Harold nodded so vigorously the top scoop of his cone wobbled.

“Well that’s mighty kind of you,” Helga handed over half of her remaining stack.

“You gonna come play baseball later, Helga?” Sid asked. “We’re meeting at Gerald Field in a couple of hours.”

“I might,” Helga shrugged.

The boys took the fliers and waved, ice cream dripping on the sidewalk.

“Weird,” Helga muttered when they disappeared around the corner. 

Though not really. Stinky had been known to be nice to her.

She made her way to Arnold’s neighborhood, taking up the last one by the bus stop. As she approached the boarding house door she grew nervous. What if she was being too forward? No one had invited her.

“I’ll just drop it off,” she reasoned as she took the first step onto the stoop. “I won’t even go in.”

She knocked, awkwardly trying to fit the stapler into her pocket and wishing she’d been able to find a nicer cover for the DVD.

Arnold’s grandpa opened the door and Helga was instantly relieved. The elder Mr. Shortman barely knew her, so it would be easy enough to ask him to pass the gift over to his son and daughter in law. 

“Oh, it’s Arnold’s friend!” he exclaimed.

“Hello Mr. Shortman. Can you please - ” she held out the DVD case, but the old man finished her sentence. Or rather, finished what he thought was her sentence.

“ – get Arnold down here? Of course! Just a minute.”

Before she could interrupt and correct him he opened the door wider, presumably to let her in, and hollered up the stairs, “Arnold! You’ve got company!”

The boy himself appeared too fast for Helga to get away. He must have been on his way down already. His baseball bat and glove were slung over his shoulder.

“Hi, Helga. I’m glad you’re here. I tried calling earlier and no one picked up.”

“I was out,” she said lamely. Her heard thudded hard against her locket, concealed under her shirt.

“What’s that?”

Stupidly, she realized she was still holding out  _Romeo and Juliet: Shortaki Edition_ , and blushed. “I was hoping to give it to your parents. It’s a video of our 4 th grade school play.”

Arnold’s blush matched hers. “Oh.” He took it from her. “That’s so nice of you. I’m sure they’ll love it." He grinned. "Although, they’ll probably insist on watching it with you. They’ll want to hear all the behind the scenes details.”

“Why don’t you stay for dinner?” Arnold’s grandpa suggested. “Stella and Pookie are cooking up a storm since Arnold said you kids are going to play baseball.”

“Great idea!” Arnold grinned. “We’ll go play a quick game, come back, have dinner, and watch it with my mom and dad after.”

“I don’t want to butt in on family time.”

“You won’t be,” Arnold insisted.

“Ok.”

Arnold’s smile brightened.


	2. daisies

A baseball game was just what Helga needed to get her mind off of the finances issue. It was great to see everyone and just play in their familiar lot, their familiar positions. No one said anything about her and Arnold showing up at the same time, and no one said anything when they left together. Just outside the boarding house Helga stopped short. “Criminy!” she hissed. “I was supposed to go grocery shopping and cook dinner.”

A worried look filtered over Arnold’s face before he smiled calmly. “We’ll call your parents and let them know you’re staying here for dinner.”

Helga shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Arnold.”

“Trust me. I’ll ask my dad to talk to your dad.”

Only her love for Arnold prevented her from lashing out, from telling him just how bad it was. But she was also afraid of the opposite reaction: Bob was so withdrawn now that her absence from the store could have gone unnoticed. God knew it wouldn’t be the first time. Silently, she followed Arnold up the steps, into the boarding house, and into the living room, where Miles and Phil were pouring over some picture books. They were Arnold’s school pictures, she noticed. She stood off to the side as Arnold explained what was worrying her. Miles closed the album and went out into the hallway, giving Helga a reassuring smile. A moment later she heard him talking lowly on the telephone.

“Come say hi to my mom,” Arnold pulled her into the kitchen.

Stella and Gertie were happily dunking dishes into a huge, soapy sink. The kitchen table was laden with more food than Helga had seen in months. She pinched her side and felt her face, hoping she didn’t look too thin.

“Oh, Elenore!” Gertie sang. “How wonderful of you to stop by!”

“This is Helga, Gertie,” Stella reminded her. 

“Oh, I know,” Arnold’s grandma winked. “I like my little joke.”

“We’re so happy you could join us for dinner, Helga. Arnold says you have a surprise for us,” Stella handed her son a stack of plates.

“You could say that.” Suddenly, Helga wished she’d complied some other videos. _Here’s a movie of me acting out the world’s greatest love story with your son! I’m creepily obsessed with him and I kissed him in front of a hundred people!_

“I’m looking forward to it! Do you mind helping Arnold set the table?” 

“It’s the least I can do. Dinner smells amazing.” She accepted a tray of empty glasses and silverware and followed Arnold into the dining room.

Miles appeared as they were attempting to fold the napkins into fancy shapes.

“Did you talk to Mr. Pataki, dad?”

“He said Helga has to be home by 9.”

Helga felt her shoulders relax. 

“Thank you, Mr. Shortman.”

“Call me Miles, Helga.”

“And call me Stella. We’re still young, you know. Don’t let this silver hair fool you,” Arnold’s mom added, entering with a platter piled high with chicken. 

There were mashed potatoes and vegetables and rolls and macaroni and cheese. The boarders tucked in eagerly, all expressing how much the quality of the food had improved since Stella started helping. The centerpiece of the table was a display of white and yellow daisies.

“They reminded me of you,” Arnold said when he caught her staring. “That time you braided your hair and put daisies in it.”

“I liked the rosebuds in your hair at the picnic,” Stella agreed. 

Unused to so much attention, Helga added a heap of roasted vegetables to her plate. 

“I’d love to braid your hair after dinner,” Stella continued. “The doctor said Miles and I need to use our joints as often as possible and I’m not making a very good attempt at knitting.”

“That would be nice.”

Everyone around her was making animated conversation and the food was delicious, but Helga was having trouble staying present. Had Bob really agreed to let her stay? Had he been rude to Mr. Shortman on the phone? Was she going to be grounded? And why was everyone being so nice to her? She tried to shake the bad feeling and reached across the table for the pitcher of lemonade. The stapler fell out of her pocket and hit the plush dining room rug with a thud. Arnold looked down and blinked.

“How’d a stapler get down there?” Arnold’s grandma wondered out loud.

“Better keep that away from Helga!” Arnold quipped ominously. “She took out one of La Sombra’s henchmen with a single swing. One staple. To the _face_.”

Embarrassed, Helga reached out to grab him. For a split second, Arnold looked panicked, then he met her halfway, grabbing her hand.

“How brave!” Stella exclaimed.

Arnold squeezed Helga’s hand and steered the conversation to exactly how they’d escaped from La Sombra’s lair. He didn’t let go of her hand until his parents started talking about the work they were going to be doing from home to help raise awareness of reforestation of rainforest lands. 

For dessert they all had a delicious whipped cheesecake.

Phil guilted a couple of boarders into cleaning up, citing Helga as their special visitor.

“I put the DVD behind the TV,” Arnold said.

“A DVD?”

“A movie,” Helga explained. “I thought you’d like to see Arnold performing in the school play.”

“What a wonderful surprise! Let me go get a comb and a brush so I can braid Helga’s hair,” Stella practically skipped upstairs while Arnold set the movie up.

It was a surreal experience, watching the play with Arnold and his family, sitting on a cushion while her hair was braided.

“Isn’t this play a bit much for 4thgraders?” Miles asked as it opened.

“Mr. Simmons wanted to impress some hoity toity arts critic,” Helga said.

“Arnold plays Romeo?”

“Not by choice. Your poor boy is too nice to say no to anyone,” she smirked.

“And you were Juliet?”

“Helga was understudy,” Arnold said. “She had to step in at the last minute.” 

Helga snorted. “Yeah. I _had_ to.”

Stella paused her plaiting. “Are we missing something?”

“As if I was going to let anyone else smooch you, Football Head,” Helga sniffed. 

All of the adults burst out laughing and Arnold buried his face in his hands, blushing. “ _Geraldine_ … what did you _do_?”

“No one got hurt, Arnold. No one got hurt.”

 

*

 

The night ended with a round of applause and Helga and Arnold taking bows in front of the TV screen. Helga’s hair was done up in a crown of braids with white and yellow daisies in it. Arnold insisted on taking a picture, and Stella and Miles insisted on sending Helga home with some leftovers. Helga accepted readily only because she thought it would appease Bob, but as they all walked out to the Packard with the engine running, Helga wished that she’d declined.

“I can walk home,” she said, and regretted it immediately. It was already dark, and it had come out harsher than she intended. 

“Even if you live close by it’s dangerous to go by yourself,” Miles tried to reason with her.

“No, no. It’s fine,” Helga couldn’t stop herself. She could literally feel the hole she was digging herself into.

“Helga,” Arnold said, quietly but sharply. He looked worried.

“Football Head,” she shot back, injecting some malice. “Do you not realize what’s wrong here?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

It hit Helga then. Arnold didn’t know. He only thought he knew. She glanced up at the boarding house. It was old, and the neighborhood was run down and urban, but light poured out of the windows and it was filled with people that cared about Arnold. There was a shower. He couldn’t possibly fathom what it was like to not have those things. Even when he didn’t have parents he had those things. 

“It’s worse than you think it is,” she near whispered. She kept her back to Miles and Stella. Shame was mounting up inside her. Would these people be so welcoming if they knew? “Please, just tell them I can make it home on my own.”

Arnold was silent for a long moment. “No,” he said finally. “Helga, you’ve always helped me. It’s my turn.” He put his hand reassuringly on her shoulder.

“Mom, dad. We’re taking Helga to her dad’s store.”

Wordlessly, they all got into the car. Helga fought internally the whole way. She wanted to scream. She wanted to open the car door and jump out into the street and run away. She even wanted to hit Arnold. Shake him. But she knew that if she did any of those things it would just be worse. Arnold would still lead his parents to the Beeper Emporium. They would still know. She didn’t realize she’d been crying until Stella asked Miles to stop the car and she came to the back seat to hug Helga to her as tightly as possible. 

One dim light was on inside the store. 

“Stella, stay out here with the kids,” Miles said, his tone serious. She watched him push open the front doors, the shallow tinkle of the bell. Something crashed. Bob’s voice rang out. Helga tensed. Arnold reached out for her, but she pushed away, throwing open the car door and rushing out. Her legs felt like jelly, as though she would collapse any minute. She was having a panic attack. Forcing herself to breathe, she pointed her feet toward the curb and took one step, then another. She felt desperately at the front of her shirt for her locket, rubbing at the gold-plated edges, the scratches from where it had been lodged in the stone, from where it had hit the rocks in the river. She looked down at it, at the frayed picture clumsily put back together with tenderness. Bob was still shouting, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. It was easy enough to tune it out. She sat on the curb, curling in on herself. The daisies in her hair came loose, softly dropping into the gutter. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there. She felt as though she was starting to fall asleep when Stella finally sat down beside her.

“Helga, honey, your dad has agreed that you should spend the night with us.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Arnold hovered around her door before his grandma told him to go eat breakfast. Helga had been silent as stone the whole drive back, clutching her locket so hard her knuckles went white.  

Arnold thought back to the first time he’d seen the locket, over a year ago. Helga must have dropped it near the boarding house. It had been embarrassing to think that grandpa wanted to wear it. It should have been embarrassing to find out that it was actually Helga’s, but it was sweet. She carried his picture with her wherever she went. It brought her comfort. Strangely, though, last night he found himself wishing that he himself could have been a better comfort to her. But saying anything about it would bring up questions that he was still asking himself. And Helga certainly had bigger, more important things on her mind. He didn’t know what she’d meant when she’d said it was worse than he thought. He thought back to the day he helped Helga in the store. He was aware that the business was failing, but there must have been something else he was missing.

The adults managed to get her to open the door, but no one was able to get her to eat more than a few bites. 

She wasn’t asking to see him, and his parents spent most of the afternoon in the living room having a tense and quiet conversation with Mr. Hyunh’s daughter, Mai. He wasn’t sure what she was doing there, but around dinnertime, he finally worked up the nerve to ask his parents what was happening.

“Helga is my friend. I want to know that she’s going to be okay. That her family’s going to be okay.”

His parents exchanged worried looks, but they ushered him into their bedroom and closed the door.

“Helga is going to be staying with us for a little while,” his mom said first, gentle, trying to be cheerful. “Won’t that be nice?”

“What about her parents?”

“Mrs. Pataki is very sick,” Miles balanced Stella’s forced optimism with seriousness. “It’s not safe for Helga to be near her right now.” He put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Helga needs you right now, Arnold. Did you know that she’s been living at her father’s store?”

“Yeah,” Arnold breathed out shakily. 

“It’s not a safe environment for her. The law says that parents and guardians have to provide certain things for their children, and the Patakis were… breaking the law.”

“Are they going to jail?” Arnold’s heart raced. He’d wanted to help Helga. She’d never forgive him if her parents were locked up.

“No, honey,” his mom reassured him. “Miss Hyunh is a social worker, someone who looks out for the needs of kids like Helga. A report _did_ have to be made, but no one is going to jail.”

“Mrs. Pataki is going to go to a clinic and social services is going to put Mr. Pataki up in a hotel close by. Tomorrow we’re going to call Dr. Bliss so that Helga can have someone to talk to,” Stella smoothed his hair and kissed his forehead. “What we need you to do is be a good friend to Helga. See if she wants to eat. If she asks about her parents tell her that we’ll figure things out tomorrow. For now, she’s visiting. She’s our guest. I called Mrs. Hyerdal this morning and in a bit she and Phoebe are going to meet me at the store so we can bring Helga some of her clothes and things.”

 

*

 

Helga didn’t answer the door at first. It took several minutes of Arnold coaxing and then talking about how his grandma used to bully his grandpa when they were kids for her to crack it open. 

“You’re making that up, Football Head.”

He smirked. “There’s a photo album downstairs. If I bring it up here, we can look at it and have some snacks.”

For a long minute, she looked down at her feet. “I’m not that hungry.”

“You don’t have to eat. I’m going to have milk and cookies, though.” He was sure no one would mind him spoiling his appetite before dinner if it was for this.

“…what kind of cookies?”

 

*

 

Helga was still reluctant to eat, but she didn’t know anyone immune to the power of fresh baked chocolate chip, so she took one. They were very good. 

Arnold held out the photo album. “Remember when we did that social studies project together and I poured paint on you? I started telling my grandpa about how we never get along and how you obviously hate me, so he showed me these pictures and said he used to have the same sort of girl trouble. He didn’t tell me it was about grandma until later.” They opened the book and looked through the pictures together. “Back then, my grandpa was saying that you bully me because you like me, and I told him that was impossible.” He laughed softly. Helga blushed.

“Arnold. I _don’t_ like you.”

“I know.”

She blushed harder and took another cookie.

“It wasn’t just out of gratitude,” he said.

“What wasn’t?”

“The other day, at the picnic. Phoebe made everyone think that I kissed you in San Lorenzo because I was grateful. That’s not all it was.” He paused, lingering too long on a picture of Phil and Gertie’s wedding day. “But I don’t want to say what else until I’m sure.”

“Arnold…”

“I want to be honest with you,” he said firmly. “About everything. I… I don’t know what’s going on with your parents. I know it’s serious. Mai was here, and she made a social worker report. Your mom’s really sick - ”

“ _Miriam_ ,” Helga interrupted through clenched teeth, “is an alcoholic.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Helga laughed bitterly. “It’s been worse lately. Your dad probably found her passed out.”

“He said she was taken to a clinic.”

Helga tensed up. Something like hope fluttered high in her breast, and she fought to squash it. “Whatever.”

“Helga. We’re going to get through this.”

Helga took her glass of milk from the tray and took a long drink. She scowled at him. “What the hell, Shortman?” She ignored his confused look and plowed on. “I’m in love with you, okay? I fell deeply in love with you when you barely paid me any attention and now you’re being _nice_ to me. You’re making me fall for you even harder, you jerk.”

He grinned. “Wait until I figure out how to do it on purpose.”

Helga threw a pillow at him. Her face was pink.

“You didn’t take it back this time,” he observed, genuinely pleased.

“Whatever,” Helga muttered, but it was soft and without spite. “Don’t let it go to your weirdly shaped head.” She took another cookie. “Pass me the photo album.”

 

* * *

 

 

Dr. Bliss was sitting in the living room the next morning. Helga was in such a good mood from the shower that she almost didn’t notice. 

Miles and Stella had been sitting with her, but when Helga appeared at the bottom of the stairs they stood up abruptly and Helga knew at once that they had been talking about her. It hurt her more than it upset her because Arnold’s parents were so nice and she was so ashamed that they knew things about her she would have rather kept secret. It occurred to her that Stella knew about the air mattress because the night before a bag of Helga’s clothes had suddenly appeared in the guest room. And Miles definitely knew.

“Helga, we were just talking with Dr. Bliss about arranging services for your class post San Lorenzo,” Stella said. Helga had no doubt that was true, but there was more.

“She wants to talk to you, Arnold and Gerald first since you were the ones most affected,” Miles added. “And she wants to talk to you in particular about your current situation.”

Situation.

Inwardly, Helga dramatically made a scene. _My situation! My circumstances!_

“Hey, doc. What’s up?” she greeted nonchalantly.

“Please come join me, Helga. We can have privacy here. It’s a safe place.”

Helga ground her teeth. _Of course_ it was safe. It was _Arnold’s_ house.

She sat in the armchair opposite the couch. She really didn’t want to sit on a couch just then.

“We’ll be upstairs with Arnold,” Stella gently smoothed Helga’s hair.

“So you heard about us living in the Beeper Emporium?” Helga asked once they were alone.

“I did,” Dr. Bliss confirmed. For the first time since Helga had known her, the woman looked distraught. “Helga, I’m so sorry that you felt as though no one could help you and you had no choice but to live there.”

“Did I have a choice?”

“I know you must think differently since you are a minor, but yes. You have a choice.”

“I want to stay here, then.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Shortman are willing to foster you for the time being. Miss Hyunh will be providing a report that details what is being done to provide for you here. I’m confident that the family court judge will see reason.”

“Wait. A judge?”

“Helga, your parents failed to provide a safe environment for you. There will be a hearing.”

“Are my parents in trouble?”

“At the moment, they have been placed on probation. Your mother is undergoing treatment at Hillwood Rehabilitation Center and your father is staying in a hotel nearby. Social services is recommending anger management therapy for him as well as marriage and family counseling. Unfortunately, we cannot force your mother to stay in treatment. But if she and your father don’t attend the hearings and follow the rules set for them by family court, then yes, they will be in trouble. Big trouble. I need you to know that this is very serious and everything that is happening is so that you will be safe and healthy.”

“What happens if my mom and dad get into trouble with the court?” Helga’s could barely hear her own voice, it was quiet.

“You will be removed from their custody.” Dr. Bliss uncrossed her legs and pulled at her skirt. “Helga. Mr. and Mrs. Shortman and their family – Arnold especially – are very concerned about you. They want to take care of you. A girl your age should have her own room, a bed, a bathroom, and food. Food that she didn’t have to cook. It is your parents’ responsibility to provide all of that.”

“The store hasn’t been doing too hot,” Helga grumbled, looking down at her feet.

“I understand that. But your father put his business’ needs over his family’s.”

“I KNOW.” Helga threw herself over the armrest. “He’s such an _idiot_! He had plenty of chances to sell it or rebrand. Sell something else.”

Dr. Bliss smiled faintly. “I’ve never met your father, but from what you’ve told me, he seems like a stubborn man.”

“The worst!”

“Stubbornness and pride are not good qualities in a businessman.”

Helga snorted. “Tell me about it.”

“I’m sorry that you’ve had to endure this, Helga.”

“It’s not all bad,” Helga mused. “I’ve got to spend a lot of time with Arnold lately.” She craned her neck to make sure the boy wasn’t listening from the staircase. “I think… I think he’s starting to like me.”

 

*

 

After Dr. Bliss left, Helga felt better. She wandered into the kitchen and found Stella and Arnold’s grandma making cookies. 

“Would you like to help, Helga?”

“Sure.” She was unaccustomed to baking. Cooking was a necessity. Baking was a luxury.

“We’re trying a new recipe,” Stella announced, giddy. “Arnold showed me how to use the computer to find it.”

She gestured to the laptop on the kitchen counter. The browser was open to a baking blog, displaying a recipe for rocky road cookies.

“Rocky road is my favorite ice cream.”

“I know. Arnold told us.”

Helga nearly spilled the entire bag of sugar into the mixing bowl. “He did?”

“I think he pays more attention to you than he lets on,” Stella winked.

They had a big mess in the kitchen when they were done, but it was just as fun cleaning up together. When the cookies were out of the oven, Gertie put some on a tray with two glasses of milk and it them to Helga. “Take these up to Arnold and share them.”

Suddenly nervous, Helga accepted it wordlessly.

“One more thing!” Stella plucked a leftover daisy from a vase sitting by the sink. She twisted a few stands of Helga’s hair back and tucked it in.

Arnold’s door was half open, Dino Spumoni playing quietly. Arnold was sitting on his couch, idly flipping through a comic book. Helga paused in the door way. She was used to this, the watching from afar one-sided love. Dr. Bliss had seemed happy for her that she now had his attention, but warned her that she was a bit young for a romantic relationship. They’d agreed to talk about development next time. It made Helga’s stomach flip now. She remembered how it felt to kiss Arnold for real, where he was holding her hands and kissing her back. 

“Helga?”

“A-arnold!” She took a cautious step back, clutching the tray to her chest. It clanked dully against her locket.

“You can come in,” he said gently. “Did you have a good talk with Dr. Bliss?”

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine!” she snapped, breezing into the room, trying to seem less embarrassed than she felt.

He was fighting laughter, she could tell. _Criminy! He already knows my moods too well._

“I’m looking forward to talking to her. Are those the cookies my mom wanted to make?” He reached out to take the tray from her. Their hands touched. Helga felt that familiar yet exciting thrill of a spark light up her skin. Arnold ducked his head.

“Um,” he let go suddenly. Helga noticed with interest that his hands were shaking.

“Your mom and grandma and I made them together,” she said. “I’ll just…” she set them down on the couch. “I really like this song.”

“It’s one of my favorites,” Arnold turned it up a little and took a cookie.

“That school dance was great,” Helga mused, taking a cookie herself.

“I heard Mr. Wartz is trying to book him for the Back to School Dance in September,” Arnold grinned, putting his comic books aside. “Do you want to sit for a bit?”

Helga carefully settled down, trying not to disturb the milk. “If you ask him, I’m sure Spumoni will say yes. I barely mentioned your name when I asked him for some video footage and he dropped everything to do it.”

Arnold grinned. “Yeah, that was cool.” He paused. “It was pretty amazing, putting together that video so fast.”

“I had help.” Thinking about it reminded her of something that had been bothering her lately. “I’ve had a lot of help lately. Everyone’s being nice to me. Too nice.” She scowled at her milk before drinking it.

“Well, I might have told everyone to stop giving you such a hard time…” Arnold admitted.

Helga coughed, almost choking on the milk. “I don’t need you to stick up for me, Football Head!” she shrieked.

“I know. That’s not why – I mean – I just - ” he stuttered.

Helga stared at him. “What is _wrong_ with you?”

He threw up his hands and groaned. “I don’t know! I’m trying to figure it out!”

He reminded her so much of herself when she was struggling with her emotions that she was silent for a few minutes. “Harold was nice to me the other day. _Harold_.”

“Good,” he finally said, his tone back to normal. “Look, Helga, I meant everything I said in San Lorenzo. I’ve been thinking ever since we got back but I know you have more important things to think about, what with your parents.”

“So distract me,” she said simply.

“What?”

“Give me something else to think about,” she took a cookie and busied herself with dunking it into her milk, speaking with more confidence than she had, unable to look him in the eye. “Whats going on at ‘home’ is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Even worse than hiking through miles of jungle and swamps only to be imprisoned at the end of it. I think something’s going on with you and me and I’d like to know what your feelings are.”

“Oh. Um…” Arnold fell back against the couch, overwhelmed. “Well… I’ve been thinking. About how you’re in love with me.”

“So modest,” Helga scoffed.

“I’m pretty lucky that someone like you is in love with me,” he continued. “After the first time, back when the neighborhood was in trouble of getting torn down, I was in denial for a while, but then it started making sense. You’re not as mean as you want people to think you are. You’re strong. No questioning that. But you’re also one of the kindest people I know. You’re intelligent. You’re pretty. Especially with flowers in your hair.”

Helga was clutching at the front of her shirt.

“Arnold?”

“I know that by asking everyone to help you put together the video they would inevitably make their own conclusions about your feelings for me. I asked them to be nice about it because I didn’t want you getting defensive when I told you how I felt. Because I like you. _A lot_. I don’t know if I’ll ever reach the level of love you have for me, but… there it is. And I don’t want to keep that a secret.”

Slowly, Helga reached over and pinched him.

“What was that for?!” he yelped.

“Okay…” she said slowly, “Now you pinch me. I have to make sure I’m not dreaming.”

The record spun and spun and Dino was singing about how love is a kick in the head. Arnold leaned over and kissed her instead.


	3. lilac

Dinner with the boarders and Arnold’s family was loud and bright and delicious. Stella had cooked a really amazing lasagna from scratch. Everyone fought boisterously over second servings, laughing. Mai was over for dinner, which was making Mr. Hyunh especially gleeful. He and Miles were sharing stories about Vietnam and San Lorenzo and it was the nicest meal Helga had had since the Thanksgiving her parents and Olga actually cared that she’d been missing for hours. The food was better, too. The only problem was that when she looked up and saw Arnold staring at her they both blushed furiously and randomly asked the nearest adult to pass them something on the table.

Mai volunteered to help her father clear the table, and Stella scooped up some ice cream for her and Arnold.

They went out to the front stoop to eat it. The weather was very nice for August. Far off, Helga could hear neighborhood kids laughing and playing.

“Are you sure you don’t just like me because I helped you get your parents back?” she asked suddenly.

Arnold twirled his spoon in his ice cream. “I’m pretty sure, Helga.”

“This is kind of important. I’m going to need something a little more solid than _pretty sure_ ,” she scoffed.

“ _Really_ pretty sure,” he fired back.

He glared at him. “I’m a bad influence on you.”

He grinned. “Would it really be so bad if that was why? And not just that, either. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be sitting here. You helped me save my home, Helga. That’s a big deal.”

“I guess I’ll take what I can get.”

“I want to give you so much more,” he insisted.

“You’re _embarrassing_ ,” she muttered, blushing.

“You love me.”

“You’re going to use that against me all of the time now, aren’t you?”

Arnold reached over and took her hand. “Definitely.”

 

* * *

 

 

At bedtime, Arnold held tight to his father’s hand. “Can we talk?” He looked nervously over at his mom. “I need some dad advice. About Helga.” 

Stella leaned over and kissed him, then kissed her husband, shutting the door behind her softly. She was relieved. During dinner, she could tell that something more than usual was up between the kids. She was charmed by Helga and grateful that the girl loved her son enough to brave everything she had in San Lorenzo to bring them back, but she was concerned. Arnold was _eleven_. When he was a baby they talked about what his future would be like and who he’d share it with. Some of the worst days before they fell asleep for a long time were spent carefully measuring ingredients for the cure, only cheering up when they would ask one another “What do you think Arnold is doing now?”

It was a huge shock to wake up and find him fully grown. The guilt over missing so much of his life was something they’d have to work out in therapy. But knowing he was still young enough for these kinds of talks and that they were there for him now made her feel better.

 

*

 

“I really like Helga,” Arnold said straight off. “And she - she _loves_ me.”

“Love is a strong word, Arnold,” Miles said gently.

“She fought off La Sombra _bare handed_ , dad. She kept me alive in the jungle. Last summer she helped me save the neighborhood from being torn down. This could have been a strip mall now. She… she’s a good person. She’s very strong. She’s intelligent. I mean, yeah, she’s smart. She’d get the best grades in class if we were graded a little more on how creatively we can solve problems. She’s nice. Even though she bullied me sometimes, when she was nice to me, she was really nice. When she’s nice to me I feel like it’s worth it.”

“What is?”

Arnold hesitated. “Growing up… since you and mom weren’t here, I was sad a lot. But it made me feel better to be nice to people and help them. It’s not that no one appreciated me, it just felt… empty sometimes. But when Helga is nice to me, it proves that whatever I did – helping Rhonda and Nadine stop fighting, building Gerald Field, saving Big Pete or even giving Dino Spumoni the guts to sing again – it actually meant something because it affected her. Does that make sense?”

“Arnold, I’ve only had a little bit of time to get to know you, but I think you know your own feelings. Your mom and I are just worried that you and Helga could mistake your emotional maturity for actual maturity. You’re only eleven, son.”

Arnold blushed. “I know. I… I kissed Helga again today. I told her that I like her.”

“I can tell that you do, but I want you to promise me that you and Helga will keep that sort of thing to a minimum. We like Helga, but right now we’re trying to be good guardians to her, and that means not letting her explore things that she’s not ready for.”

“Okay.”

“Think carefully about what you’re doing and talk to Helga about what you’re feeling. Communication is the most important thing in a relationship.”

“How did you know that you were in love with mom?” Arnold sat up eagerly. “Grandpa read me some of your journal, but I want to know how you _knew_.”

“Well, your mom is pretty, and intelligent. But I think I knew once we survived our first big adventure together. We worked well as a team, and even though we were both scared at times, we got through it together. After that I knew that she was the one I was meant to spend my life with.” He ruffled Arnold’s hair. “It sounds like you and Helga have been through a lot together, too. Is she someone you can trust and depend on?”

“Definitely.”

“I had my first girlfriend when I was twelve,” Miles mused. “I know you’ll be starting school again, so that’ll keep you busy, but it won’t hurt anyone if you and Helga want to hold hands or go on an ice cream date now and then.”

“That sounds good.”

“I’m going to ask your mom to talk to Helga, let her know that if either of you feel stuck or uncomfortable with each other, you can talk to us. You’re going to be going through some changes, so things might get awkward.”

Arnold nodded. “The past few days I’ve been blushing _all of the time_. And earlier I accidentally touched her hand and I felt… I felt excited.”

“I’m happy for you, son. I haven’t ruled out the possibility of you and Helga repeating your grandparents’ story.”

They laughed warmly over that and Arnold fell asleep smiling.

 

* * *

 

 

“I think it’s great that Arnold likes you, Helga, but you’re both very young. I want you to think more carefully about this,” Dr. Bliss lectured. “When we first met, we talked about how Arnold acknowledging you gave you validation. The worst thing for you would be mistreating that validation.”

Helga scowled. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I have ‘daddy issues’. I’m not consciously looking for Arnold to fill that void.”

“Consciously,” Dr. Bliss emphasized. “Of course, given what happened in the jungle I can rule that out almost completely. Your feelings for Arnold are genuine. It isn’t uncommon for people to have a special connection very early in life that turns into something else when they get older. However, I still want you to be careful. Mr. Shortman informed me this morning that he’s been having talks with Arnold about what is and what is not appropriate from here on out.”

Helga blushed and looked down at her hands. Stella had that talk with her, too.

“You’re going to start going through some changes, soon, Helga,” Dr. Bliss warned her. “It’s all part of growing up.”

They finished the session talking about the nightmares she was having. Miles and Stella had been busy contacting the other parents, and there was going to be a group therapy session for all of them to talk about what they had experienced. From there Dr. Bliss would offer her services to anyone who wanted individual therapy. Arnold had already had a private session, and he later told Helga that it was really great to talk to someone about everything. It was still surreal to him to have parents, and his biggest problem was adjusting to the way they expected to raise him after being raised by his grandparents all his life.

*

Exactly a week after the Helga came to live at the boarding house, she spent the night at Phoebe’s house. They hadn’t had much time to catch up after getting back to Hillwood. The Hyardals were among the most concerned parents. Phoebe had been taken to her family doctor as soon as they touched down to make sure she was in perfect health after her adventure. Aside from a mild rash, she was fine, but she had hardly been let out of the house.

“I hear them at night, checking up on me,” Phoebe confessed once they were alone in her room. “They’re very anxious for me to star therapy. As Stinky mentioned, I’ve been having nightmares.”

“You’ll like Dr. Bliss,” Helga assured her. “She doesn’t patronize.”

“Let’s talk about something more positive,” Phoebe said, squeezing her pillow to her chest. “How are things going with you and Arnold?”

Helga flopped back on the best. “It’s… complicated. He knows how I feel about him now and he says he likes me, but it’s weird because we’re always blushing around each other and still figuring out how to talk to each other. We were friends before, but I’m more honest with him now, so it’s like he’s meeting me all over again.”

“Understandable.”

“He gives me flowers. Like, all of the time.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Yeah…” Helga sighed happily. Yesterday morning Helga opened her door to find a vase full of peonies sitting there in the doorway. She put them on the table by the bed and admired all their different colors.

“They’re pretty, like you, and I got different colors because I’m seeing different sides of you lately,” Arnold explained later. Helga had all but swooned. Instead she shoved him and chastised him for being embarrassing. He looked bewildered, which made her want to cry, so she attempted to apologize, but Arnold’s grandpa interrupted them because he needed Arnold for some chores.

“Just keep communicating with him,” Phoebe advised. “You’re going through a lot right now and the worst thing you could do is shut people out. We… my parents and I have been talking this week and they put in a bid to be your foster parents.”

Helga sat up. “What?”

“There’s going to be a hearing in a few weeks, and I know Mr. and Mrs. Shortman have volunteered to be your guardians, but my parents called them and they all agreed that the priority is to keep you here in Hillwood, so two sets of families willing to foster you makes those odds a lot better.”

For a moment, Helga was angry. She hated being talked about behind her back like some sort of charity case. And she was hurt. She thought Arnold’s parents _wanted_ her to stay with them. But then she took in Phoebe’s hopeful look and thought hard. Miles and Stella might not be in the best shape to foster a child. They’d been comatose for years. And she should be grateful, really, that so many people cared about her staying in Hillwood. Her school district, at least.

“It would be pretty cool living with you for a while,” she said finally.

They spent the rest of the night talking about what they thought sixth grade would be like. Phoebe was naturally excited about everything academic, but Helga was definitely looking forward to a longer lunch period and getting to have their own laptops in class. Rumor had it the incoming class was getting brand new ones.

In the middle of the night, Helga woke up and didn’t know where she was. The futon was comfortable and warm, but it was too quiet. The door was open a crack and the light turned on.

“Helga?” whispered Phoebe’s dad. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Can I have some water?”

“Of course.”

Helga sat up and pulled the covers around her. A moment later Mr. Hyardal brought her glass of water and sat one on the nightstand by Phoebe’s head. Helga thought it was a kind gesture, and she flied it away. Parents did that sort of thing. Caring parents.

She’d been unable to talk to her mother the whole time she was at Arnold’s house. Stella explained to her that all rehab programs had a detox period and then an isolation period. Helga was worried that Miriam wouldn’t be able to make it. She remembered now. Once, when Olga was touring cities on a competitive piano circuit, Miriam had gone to the hospital. She’d been in first grade then. She’d been playing outside, and when she came inside, Bob was talking tensely on the phone with someone. He gave Helga a juicebox and a sleeve of Oreos and told her to be quiet in her room. He seemed angry, but Helga hadn’t been sure why, so she’d done as she was told. She remembered flashing red light outsode her window and Bob telling her later before bed that her mom had gone to the hospital but she would be back the next day. Helga had put herself to bed, as was her custom. Bob made no mention if Miriam was okay, why she had gone to the hospital. She wet the bed that night and Bob, furious, wadded up the bedding and threw it out. He made Miriam go shopping for new as soon as she came back two days later.

 

* * *

 

 

The hearing was scheduled for three days before school started again. Miles and Stella were not happy about it because they argued that depending on the outcome, it would add to Helga’s stress going in to the new school year. Personally, though, Helga was glad it was coming so soon.

The whole class had already had their group therapy session with Dr. Bliss, and a few kids would start seeing her one on one after school started.

“We need to go back to school shopping,” Stella observed as they left the church basement that had been lent to them for group. “Helga, you need new shoes.”

Helga blushed. “Yeah, these have been better days.” Fortunately, among the things Stella had brought her from the store was the hollowed-out book with her stash in it. There was definitely enough for a cheap pair.

“I’ll call Mai and have her meet us at the department store,” Stella went on as they got into the Packard. “She said she wanted to buy them for you.”

“What? Why?” Arnold asked.

“She said she owes Helga,” Miles answered. “Do you know what that’s about?”

Helga sank into the seat. “I… I might.” She glanced over at Arnold. “The Christmas before last, I got a pair of really nice snow boots but I ended up trading them in for a good cause. I think she might have heard about it.”

Arnold stared at her.

“It was _you_ ,” he said softly.

“I feel like we’re missing something again,” Stella commented, eyeing them through the rearview mirror.

“I just realized that the two best gifts I’ve received in my life were from Helga,” Arnold said with awe.

Helga blushed. “It’s not even a big deal, Football Head.”

“You don’t get how amazing you are, do you?” He sounded almost angry, and Helga was surprised to see that he was fighting tears. “Helga, did your mom buy you those snow boots?”

“Yeah…” _I must have waited in line 18 hours. They’re probably the last pair in the city_. She felt a stab of guilt. It wasn’t like Miriam noticed they went missing, anyway.

“That was a sacrifice. And you never told me!” he started laughing then. “You could have. I would have fallen in love with you right then.”

“S-shut up!” Helga stuttered.

Arnold reached out and took her hand. “After we go shopping we should go get something to eat and tell my parents all about it. Mai might want to tell her side, too. I know I want to hear it.”

Mai Hyunh was waiting for them in front of the department store. While Miles took Arnold off to one part of the store for his school clothes, Helga and the women went to the shoe store. Helga wasn’t used to the attention. Usually when she went back to school with her mom, she threw whatever she wanted onto the counter and sulked off. The last time, her mother had snuck in a few things she would never wear. With shoes she usually picked whatever looked comfortable and fit. When Bob’s business was doing well they never had to look at prices. Now Stella and Mai were having a great time making her try on different styles. Still, Helga was no Rhonda. She didn’t give a crap about fashion or anything flashy. She picked a pair that wasn’t too expensive but not cheap either. Mai insisted on giving her a gift, so Helga chose a pair of sneakers with comfortable soles that had touches of pink on the eyelets and on the soles. Then Stella insisted on buying her a sweater because while it wasn’t cold enough yet, Helga would probably go through another growth spurt soon. Helga swallowed her protests and picked out a warm pink sweater.

“Is pink your favorite color?” Arnold’s mom asked as they walked through the food court on their way to meet Arnold and Miles.

“It’s Arnold’s fault,” Helga mused.

“Oh?”

“First words he ever said to me: ‘I like your bow because it’s pink like your pants’.” She smiled.

They all met up at a diner in the food court with jukeboxes and bouncy red leather seats. Mai treated Helga to a burger, fries, and milkshake and started in on her part of the story.

“I was adopted very young by a nice American family. When I was seven years old I started to realize that I didn’t look like my brother or anyone else in my family. We had Vietnamese neighbors, and they stared at me when we went out shopping or came home from school. As I got a little bit older I noticed that my neighbors had a lot of children. I thought that I actually belonged to them and they had to give me up because they didn’t have enough beds! I understood on some level that I had been adopted, but on my ninth birthday, my adopted parents explained what happened to me. The soldiers who brought me into the country listed what province I came from, and my name. Fortunately, someone who knew my father had been on the same helicopter that carried me to safety, so they had his name. But that was all. Just his name.

I went to my neighbors and told them and asked them if any of them knew anyone from that province or anyone by that name. They didn’t, but they taught me to speak my native language and about my culture. I decided to stay in Hillwood because I thought that one day my father would come looking for me if he was still alive. I went to college out of state, but I kept contact with my adopted family and my neighbors and asked them to let me know if they heard of anyone asking for a Mai Huynh.

After college I started working as a home visit therapist for foster children, helping them adjust to foster life. I met a lot of Vietnamese people, some from my province, but no one knew my father or had heard of him since. I eventually decided to become a social worker. On Christmas Eve two years ago, I was combing through case files. Christmas was a hard time for me. I usually spent it with my adopted family, but as I grew older I was starting to ache more and more for my real family. I love my adopted parents and brother very much, but I wished that we shared something profound that you could only get from blood relatives. I grew up feeling out of place. Sometimes I would get angry with my mom and yell at her in Vietnamese because I knew she couldn’t understand me. It was very frustrating. She and my dad knew there was something missing, something they couldn’t give me. At Christmas, the happiest times for me were reuniting foster children with their biological families at a big event the city hosts every year. Sometimes foster kids have to be separated from their real families for a while. Sometimes for years.” She looked over at Helga.

Helga took a deep breath. “Sounds tough.”

“It’s nice to get them to reunite for the day, though. It motivates parents to keep working the program the court set for them so that they can be together again and it lets the kids know that their parents still love them.

But for me that year, all I saw was what I would never have. I had been separated from my father for years. My whole life. I tried using social media to find him, but a lot of Vietnamese, especially older people, don’t like to post personal information online even if they are legal citizens. It can be scary. My countrymen came here to flee war but we risk deportation.

So that night when the knock came at my apartment door, I was scared. Was I going to be called in for questioning?

The year before I entered college, I went abroad, hoping to get some lead on my father. It was a failed trip, and when I returned, I was pulled out of the returning queue. Random selection, they said. It was horrible. I called my adoptive family and they rushed to the airport, bringing a lawyer and all the paperwork they had on me. I felt like a criminal. I lived in fear for a long time after that, and even though everything sorted itself out, I couldn’t help being afraid. Helga knocked at my door at 4 am on Christmas morning.”

Helga squirmed in her seat.

“How did you know?” Arnold asked.

Helga heaved a sigh and drew the tall milkshake glass closer. “Well, I sort of overheard you and Gerald talking.” She took a long, loud sip of the shake. “I’d been following you around trying to get a hint as to what you wanted for Christmas.”

“We did a Secret Santa at the boarding house,” Arnold explained. “I drew Mr. Hyunh. I talked to him and found out that he was always sad around Christmas because he missed his daughter. So I did some digging. But it was Christmas Eve, and Mr. Bailey, the guy in charge of missing persons, had too much work to do, so I volunteered to do his shopping for him so that he’d have more time. But I couldn’t find the Nancy Spumoni snow boots. They were sold out everywhere.”

“And that jerk Bailey refused to help him!” Helga broke in. “But I had a pair. Miriam let me open a present that night, when I got home after a long day of following Football Head around only to come up _short_. Figures the one thing he wanted for Christmas was a good deed.”

“But you delivered,” Arnold countered. “Christmas morning came and I felt bad because I failed and had nothing to give Mr. Hyunh. But then the doorbell rang.”

“And there I was!” Mai announced. “It took a few hours of Helga and Mr. Bailey cross referencing the dates and facts in my adoption papers with the information registered at city hall about my father. I got dressed in a hurry and Helga and I took a cab to Arnold’s house, but Helga wouldn’t come in with me. She said I shouldn’t mention it. Her. She said it was a surprise and no one should know that she helped me, but since I’ve been reunited with my father I’ve gotten to know Arnold very well and once he started mentioning Helga it was very hard to keep it a secret.”

 

* * *

 

 

When they returned to the boarding house, there was a phone message waiting for Helga.

“It’s from your mother,” Arnold’s grandpa said. He handed her the small paper.

_Helga, please call. I miss you._

She didn’t recognize the phone number underneath.

“She’s at Hillwood Rehabilitation Center,” Arnold’s grandpa said. “You can use the cordless in our bedroom.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Arnold asked.

“Thanks. I’ll be fine.”

Phil and Pookie’s room was a bit crowded since their son returned home. For years Miles and Stella’s quarters had been kept, but occasionally they had to use it for storage. As soon as they returned, Ernie, Mr. Hyunh, Mr. Green and Miles had cleared everything out. Most of it had gone to Goodwill, but there was still some bulky furniture and boxes that ended up in the grandparents’ room. Helga selected a comfortable ottoman and took the cordless phone off the hook.

With shaking fingers, she dialed the number. Two hollow rings.

“Hillwood Rehabilitation Center."

“I’d like to speak to Miriam Pataki, please.”

The line went quiet for a moment, then the person who answered the phone said “Hold please.” And she was alone with just a light jazz melody in her ear.

“Helga, sweetie?”

She exhaled. Something clenched at her chest. “Hi, mom.”

“I’m so glad you called, sweetie. How are you?”

“I’m fine. I’m at Arnold’s house.”

“Helga, I’m so sorry I couldn’t take care of you.”

It took Helga a few seconds to process that both she and her mom were crying.

“It’s okay, Miriam,” she managed.

“No. No, honey. The first thing I have to do is admit I have a problem and apologize to the people I hurt. I… I have a problem with drinking. When Olga started to grow up and your father praised her constantly, I felt pressure to make sure she kept doing well. I gave her all of my attention. When she got older and you were born, I was getting depressed because it was so draining keeping track of all Olga’s activities, competitions, and scholarships. I saw you there, and you were so tough. So independent. I neglected you because it seemed like you could take care of yourself. But you were a little girl. You’re still a little girl. I just… I felt so exhausted. Drinking and sleeping got me through the day. You’re so smart, and you can do things for yourself. I just… I checked out, honey. That’s on me.”

“Are you sober?”

“I am. It’s been hard. Alcohol isn’t so much addicting as it becomes habitual. They’ve been keeping me busy here, though. But I called you to say I love you and I miss you and – and to prepare you for the hearing.”

“It’s going to be okay, mom.”

“Sweetie, no matter what happens, we’re all trying to do what’s best for you. I think it’s a good idea for you to be in foster care for a while. I need to stay here and work the program.”

“Will you be at the hearing?”

“Yes. Your dad, too.”

“How is he?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only seen him here twice. The first time because the lawyers needed to talk to both of us, and then yesterday because he wanted me to help him choose a suit.”

“Mom, what’s going to happen?”

“Well, the _best_ case scenario would be that Stella and her husband will be allowed to foster you, and as I work the program, I’ll get to see you on weekends. Your father is facing a lot of pressure from his lawyer to sell the shop because it’ll help with custody, but things won’t go back to normal – or better than normal – until after there’s been a review later on in the year. Maybe not even until February.”

“What if dad tries to fight the court and take me with him?”

“Oh, honey. I won’t let that happen. I’m not in the best place right now, but I have a say. If dad’s financial situation wasn’t so bad, he _would_ get his way. I just hope he doesn’t get too belligerent in court…”

“When you helped him pick out a suit, how did he seem?”

“I don’t know, honey. He was grumbling the whole time about how he’s being forced to sell the shop and he’s trying to get investors. He didn’t ask me what I thought.” There was a long pause. Helga could hear someone telling her mom that she only had a few more minutes. “The first stage of the program is three months long. After that time, you can come visit. Until then we can only talk on the phone, honey. I’ll see you at the hearing, though. I love you.”

“I – I love you too, mom.”

 

*

 

After the phone call Helga took a long shower and then read some of the books Stella brought her. She was just starting to get bored with that when she heard the now familiar sound of dinner being prepared downstairs. She went to wash up and see if she could help setting the table. Weird. Even back at home she never set the table unless it was Christmas or Thanksgiving dinner. A few other times in between. Arnold was coming up as she was descending and when he caught her on the landing, he blushed and quickly tucked his hands tighter behind his back. 

“What are you hiding, Football Head?” she smirked.

“Just – um,” he looked around to make sure no one else was around. “Close your eyes.”

Helga eyed him suspiciously but obliged. “Is it a surprise?” She felt something settle atop her head and Arnold’s hand softly touched her cheek, then drew away. Her eyes snapped open and she really wished that she hadn’t promised Stella no more kissing.

Lightly, she put her hands up and felt a crown of flowers circling her hair ribbon. They were small and pale purple.

“Lilacs,” Arnold explained. “They mean _firstlove_ ,” the last mumbled.

“What?”

Arnold stood up a little straighter. “First love,” he repeated.

Helga did swoon then.

“Oh… oh, _Arnold! In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes, For they in thee a thousand errors note; But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise!_ You surely are my first love, the flower is justly chosen. How my heart beats to think that your eyes would alight upon this delicate flower and fashion a crown for me! Oh that I were the queen of your heart! Angel!”

Arnold blinked. “Um.”

Helga blushed furiously. She had the impulse to shove the flowers down his throat and run away. _What an agony of embarrassment!_

“You – you can’t tell anyone about this or I’ll… I’ll… _what_?!” she snapped, irritated that she couldn’t think of a good threat. Arnold was blushing faintly and smiling softly.

“That was beautiful, Helga.”

“Um,” she said.

“I knew you were creative and poetic, but… did you just blend Shakespeare in with your own stuff?”

“Um.”

He reached out and pinched her arm.

“Criminy, Football Head!” she put her hand to her chest, pressing hard enough to feel the locket there for comfort.

“I get why you’d be embarrassed, so we can pretend I didn’t hear it. But it was lovely.”

Helga didn’t know what to say.

Thankfully, Gertie chose that moment to appear at the bottom of the stairs. “Time for dinner!” she called up cheerfully. Helga followed Arnold downstairs in a daze. As she passed the mirror in the hall, she had to admit, she did look nice with flowers in her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sonnet Helga quotes in chapter 3 is Sonnet 141.


	4. yellow tulips

Bob’s suit was faintly wrinkled. He said very little during the hearing, a tactic his lawyer and anger management coach probably came up with together. Still, it didn’t affect the outcome. At the end of the hearing, Helga was released into the custody of Pheobe’s family. Bob and Miriam would be on probation and only Bob would be allowed supervised visitation. Helga would be able to visit her mom after the first stage of the program.

Before the hearing, Helga asked to speak to Miles and Stella in private.

“I’m really grateful for you,” she began, “but Phoebe’s family has put in a bid to foster me and I want you to drop out.” She kept her head down because she didn’t want to see if her request hurt or confused them. “You’ve been in a coma for a long time. You still haven’t had time to recover or process anything. And you have Arnold to focus on. So.”

The pattern on the carpet blurred as she fought tears. Miles and Stella enveloped her in a hug.

“You’re a very special girl, Helga,” Stella whispered. “We hate to give you up, but if this is what you truly want…”

Helga hugged them back and swallowed hard. “It is.”

“You can still come over whenever you want,” Miles assured her.

“Oh, you can count on it,” Helga said, laughing and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

After the adjournment, Phoebe’s parents drove her to the boarding house to pick up her things. They also drove to the storage unit where the Patakis were keeping other things from their house until they could find better living arrangements. Helga doubted they would be able to go back to their old house. With Phoebe and Mrs. Heyerdahl’s help, Helga sorted through boxes for things that she needed. Most of what she chose was clothing. She noticed with increasing frustration that almost nothing else was worth keeping. She’d either outgrown it (bathing suit and her good pair of flannel pajamas) or noticed that its worth was meaningless now (video game console she hadn’t touched in over a year, rollerblades she’d only used once).

The Heyerdahls didn’t have a car big enough to transport her furniture, but they did have a guest room they had steadily been preparing for her over the past week.

“My father was using it as his home office, but we agreed that we really needed a dedicated guest space,” Phoebe explained. It had a queen-sized bed with a new mattress, a desk and a dresser.

“Phoebe and I were thinking her room needed a little makeover, since you’re starting middle school,” Mrs. Heyerdahl said. “Tomorrow we’ll go shopping and you can pick out a bedspread and some things.”

Helga blushed and mumbled her thanks. She wasn’t comfortable with anyone spending money on her, but she wasn’t sure how long she’d be in foster care. Even if Bob did clean up his act and get the business to start turning a profit or find other employment, her lawyer cautioned her that it might be up to a year or more before she could live with him.

 

*

 

Arnold’s family met them for dinner at a nice place downtown and they all talked about how Helga didn’t need permission if she wanted to stop by the boarding house on the way home from school.

“Just send us a text message to let us know where you are,” Mr. Heyerdahl explained breezily.

“Do you have a cell phone?” Stella asked. “We’ve been thinking that Arnold probably needs one. In middle school you might have group projects or even after school activities, and I know on weekends you kids like to play in the park or at Gerald Field.”

“I think Rhonda’s the only one in our grade with a cell phone,” Arnold said.

Mr. and Mrs. Heyerdahl nodded. “A cell phone is a big responsibility, but for the reasons you mentioned I believe it is important to have it. After what happened in San Lorenzo we regret not getting one for Phoebe sooner. Helga will get one, too, of course. 

Helga squirmed in her seat.

“We’d have to set some ground rules, of course,” Stella interjected.

“I agree,” Phoebe’s mom said, putting her hand on Helga’s shoulder. “You’re going to have it for safety and communication, so it won’t be anything fancy and it will be your responsibility to take care of it.”

The adults spent the rest of the dinner talking about how the neighborhood changed since the Shortmans last saw it. Helga sat between Phoebe’s mom and Phoebe and pushed her salad around. She knew things were going to change. She felt strange, being shuffled from one place to the other. Miriam had been at the hearing as she’d promised, but she’d only been allowed to greet her briefly. Someone from the rehab center was there to testify that Miriam was making progress. It had given Helga hope.

Before the families parted ways, Arnold reached out and squeezed her hand. “My parents told me why you wanted to stay with Phoebe. Everything is going to be okay, Helga.”

Helga felt a crushing weight lift and started to cry. Her home was gone. Her parents were gone. She was with strangers. Strangers that cared about her, but still. Arnold looked bewildered for a moment, then pulled her into a hug. “It’s going to be okay,” he repeated. The adults all took turns patting her hair and asking her if she needed to sit down or if she wanted to call her mom.

“It’s late, but I’m sure we can convince them you need to talk to her for a minute,” Stella took out her mobile and held it out. After hiccoughing and accepting some napkins from Phoebe, Helga took it and scrolled through the contacts. There were very few, but _Miriam Pataki_ was there. Helga selected it, grateful that Stella hadn’t saved the number as _Hillwood Rehabilitation_ _Center_. It rang for longer than it did during the day, and the nurse that answered was snappish until Helga said ‘please’. Everyone around her was holding their breath.

“Helga, sweetie?”

“H-hi mom,” Helga felt a fresh wave of tears coming. “I just wanted to say goodnight.”

“Oh, honey. I’m sad, too,” Miriam soothed. “This isn’t easy for any of us. Your father was really upset. After the hearing the judge took us aside to go over our conditions to get you back full time. He practically threw a chair across the room." 

“Criminy,” Helga muttered.

“It was a little funny,” Miriam admitted. 

Helga couldn’t help it. The thought of Bob in a wrinkled suit attempting to throw a chair across the room over her was too much. She laughed. She laughed until she started crying again. 

“Everything is going to be okay, Helga.”

Helga looked up at Arnold, who was watching her with concern. “I know,” she said. “I’ll call you again after my first day of school. I love you.”

 

* * *

 

Helga was trying to consider other colors. She really was.

Phoebe was looking at wall art for something that would complement the eggplant colored bedspread she’d picked out. Mrs. Heyerdahl was across the aisle, picking out towels.

Helga held a different colored throw pillow in each hand. One was yellow, decorated with short frills. The other was pink. Helga sighed and put down the yellow one. As much as she liked other colors and thought about trying something new, she did want some constant in her life. Anyway, it was her signature. She picked out a pink quilt and sheets printed with little pink roses and wall art of a pink rose garden and a pink desk lamp and a standing lamp with a pink shade and a pink rug. At the register, she ignored the total as it climbed and thanked Phoebe’s mom. After that they bought some school supplies and a new pair of pajamas for Helga, also pink.

At the cell phone kiosk in the mall Mrs. Heyerdahl bought a basic plan with unlimited text and talk. The phones had cameras, but no internet. After Helga’s room had been furnished, she carefully entered the number for the rehabilitation center and the boarding house. Her backpack was all set. With everything that had happened since San Lorenzo – San Lorenzo included – she’d forgotten about school. She was actually looking forward to it. School was normal. They were going to have separate classes for PE, math, science, and an elective period. Helga had chosen art. There weren’t many choices for 6thgraders. In seventh and eighth grades they could choose robotics, theater, cooking. Phoebe chose computer science. It was the only class they wouldn’t share. Arnold was taking art, too. He’d called before dinner to ask her if she’d gotten her schedule yet. They had homeroom together, as well as science and art.

“Maybe we can be science partners?” he’d suggested, and Helga’s heart fluttered.

Mrs. Heyerdahl served a light dinner of chicken, roasted vegetables, and rice for dinner. A few days before the hearing, Helga had been too stressed to eat. Now, she took her time enjoying the food. It wasn’t her first time being at the Hyerdall home for dinner. Phoebe’s mom always cooked wholesome, clean dishes. It was different from what Stella and Gertie cooked. At the boarding house, the meals were always filling, hearty. It was like a buffet every day at that house. But there were more people there, too. Helga’s new room was quiet at night. She almost couldn’t sleep. Coupled with the excitement of school coming up, she and Phoebe were both up just after sunrise that Wednesday.

They were sharing a bathroom and Phoebe prattled nonstop that morning as Helga doused her face in cold water over and over. As they were getting dressed – Helga attempted several different outfits before settling on her best fitting pink dress, fixed her hair and tied her ribbon.

 

* * *

 

School was so normal it was almost boring.

Phoebe had her computer science class right after homeroom – everyone was in homeroom together; the parents had lobbied particularly hard during their post San Lorenzo meetings – and Helga had art with Arnold. The room didn’t have any desks. Everyone sat wherever they wanted, at different shaped tables. Helga ended up with Arnold, Eugene, Nadine, and Sheila at a round table. A variety of art supplies sat in the middle of the table. Their assignment for that days was to tell their teacher something about themselves. Nadine immediately reached for the pipe cleaners and started constructing what everyone knew would be some kind of exotic bug.

Helga had a blank piece of paper in front of her for most of the class until she saw a few scraps of magazine paper in the pile. When the bell rang, it wasn’t done yet, but they had until the end of the next class. She would need all that time.

 

*

 

Helga made a point to call Miriam as soon as school was out. She told her mom all about her day, trying to sound as upbeat as possible. Since no teacher had assigned any homework, their group of friends headed to Gerald Field and played until parents started calling them to come home. It didn’t escape Helga’s notice that almost all of their friends had cell phones now.

“Helga! Wait!” Arnold called. He quickly exchanged a handshake with Gerald and jogged up to her.

“What’s up, Football Head?”

She hadn’t seen him since she left the boarding house. It was so surreal, almost as if nothing had happened. But he was standing there, blushing, and Helga remembered. _First love_. She blushed, too.

“My parents got me a cell phone the other day.”

Helga resisted the urge to respond with something witty and rude. “Uh, yeah. Pheebs and I got one, too. Each. I have my own.”

“Well, I was hoping we could exchange numbers? My mom and dad want you to come over for dinner this weekend and catch up. You can call me after you clear it with Mr. and Mrs. Heyerdahl?”

“S-sure.”

Awkwardly, they exchanged phones and watched the other enter their number.

Helga wasn’t sure how they got to Phoebe’s house. Her head was in the clouds. Arnold sent her a quick text message as soon as they parted. _Hi, Helga_. Just that. Simple, but it made Helga weak in the knees.

They ate leftovers for dinner and talked about everyone’s day. Mr. and Mrs. Heyerdahl had interesting jobs and they were very good listeners when it was time for the girls to share. Phoebe was already excited about her computer science class even though they didn’t even touch any of the computers yet. Both girls had brought home the usual paperwork plus some guidelines for things they might need for classes. Thankfully the pair of shoes Mai bought her would do just as well for PE, but she and Phoebe both needed was a pair of safety goggles for science, sweat clothes for PE in cold weather, as well as combination locks for their PE lockers. Helga’s art teacher suggested a smock, which Helga immediately dismissed as ridiculous, but Mrs. Hyerdall just poured her more milk and said that it was more practical than Helga packing a change of clothes. Phoebe agreed, playfully reminding Helga of the time she and Arnold got into a paint fight. 

“The art supply store should have some,” Mr. Heyerdahl added. “It’s right across the street from my office. I’ll handle it.”

Helga was unaccustomed to a dad being so involved. She ducked her head in embarrassment and thanked him.

“Arnold invited me to his house for dinner on Saturday. Can I go?” she asked as they all cleared the table.

“Of course.”

“Can I call him?”

“Be sure to tell him that our house rule is no cell phones after 9,” Mr. Heyerdahl said.

Helga went up to her room. The rosy glow of her desk lamp and floor lamp were comforting and inviting after the long day. She sat cross legged on the middle of the bed and navigated to the contacts in her phone. Arnold.

It only rang twice before he answered.

“Helga! Hi!”

“H-hi.”

“Did you get permission to come to dinner?”

“Yeah. Saturday?”

“My mom and grandma will be happy. They miss having you here.” A pause. “I miss having you here.”

“Oh, _Arnold_!” Helga swooned into the mountain of pillows Phoe’s mom had dumped on the bed.

“Um.”

“Criminy,” Helga hissed. “Sorry. I’m trying to keep that under control.”

“It’s okay. Really.”

The pillows were really impractical, Helga thought. She could feel herself sinking into them. “I’m gonna suffocate to death.”

“What?”

“Phoebe’s mom really went to town on my room. I love it, but there are way too many pillows for my taste.”

Arnold laughed. “I’m imagining a pile of frilly pink pillows with your feet sticking out.”

“That’s not far off,” Helga huffed.

“They’re treating you alright, then?”

“Oh, it’s great,” Helga assured him. “The only problem is they have this ridiculous rule about no cell phones after 9 o’clock. No late night conversations. Sorry, Romeo.”

“G-geraldine!” he stuttered. She could feel him blushing over the phone. It made her feel so blissful she almost went into a monologue again. Instead, she started laughing, and then he did.

 

* * *

 

Helga finished her art project with almost ten minutes to spare the next day. Their art teacher, Ms. Ezza, was impressed with everyone’s designs. Nadine’s bug was fantastic. It was the size of a small cat and glittered with cellophane wings, glitter, and rhinestone buttons. Eugene’s was an actual miniature Rube Goldberg machine. Arnold’s was a papier-mâché football that opened up to reveal a diorama of his neighborhood. Helga was proud of hers, though. She had made a three page popup book. Each page was decorated with magazine and newspaper words. Wherever she could hide it, Helga featured lines of her own poetry. One page represented the park, another was Gerald Field, including pictures of her friends. The last page was a big self-portrait of Helga herself with a massive crown of flowers in a myriad of colors and shapes. 

“I’m going to put all of these in the supply room for now. The next time you see them will be at Back to School Night!” Ms. Ezza announced. “Tomorrow I have a great surprise for you! If you have a smock, please bring one. I do have spares, though.”

In PE they got their uniforms, grey shirts and dark blue shorts. The clothes had to be taken home one a week minimum for washing. “It’s part of your grade. Hygiene,” their teacher explained. The locker room was big. As they put away their gym clothes, Helga looked around, apprehensive. She hadn’t thought about having to change in front of everyone. Embarrassing. She glanced down at her chest and heaved a sigh. There was _that_ to think about, too.

Once school was out she headed to Slausen’s. She told Phoebe she’d meet her back at the house. She got herself a malt and found a booth away from everyone else. She scrolled to her mom’s name in the address book and dialed.

“Miriam Pataki, please,” she said as soon as it was answered. She hated hearing the sullen receptionist reminding her that she was calling a rehab clinic.

“Helga! Hi, honey. How was school?”

“I need a training bra, Miriam.” 

Long silence. Helga sighed.

“I wish I could be there to help you shop for one, sweetie. In the past, I was really resistant to getting help because even though I thought you were so smart and so independent, I thought I might miss out on things in your life. Like this.”

“It’s not a big deal, mom.”

“But it is important. Hey! Maybe Stella can go with you.”

Helga gritted her teeth. Arnold’s mom. Bra shopping. She sunk into the booth, hoping that no one could hear her conversation.

“Sure, Miriam. I’ll invite Arnold’s grandma, too.”

“You can tell me I’m being embarrassing instead of responding with sarcasm, you know.” 

 _Ouch_. “Sorry.”

“I am, too, honey. I really am.”

 

* * *

 

After dinner, Phoebe’s parents presented her with a gift bag.

“We just wanted to remind you that our home is yours for as long as you need it. We also wanted to thank you for being such a good friend to Phoebe.”

Inside the gift bag was an art smock. It was pink.

“I went in during my lunch hour and that was in the window!” Mr. Heyerdahl exclaimed. “Fate!”

Helga loved it.

She and Phoebe both had math, English, and science homework. It was all pretty easy, and Helga liked the quiet in the house as she sat at her desk. House rules also said that she wasn’t allowed to have her phone with her while she was doing homework. It was aggravating because she really wanted to ask Arnold’s opinion on their English assignment. They had to choose a book from an approved list to do a ‘book report’ on. The interesting part was that the report didn’t have to be a conventional report. Helga didn’t know what to do. She’d already chosen her book. For now, all she had to do was read a bit each night and take notes. They had two weeks to read their chosen book and at the end of those two weeks they had to come up with a proposal for what their report was going to be. 

At the end of the night she and Phoebe put their phones in a drawer downstairs. Mr. Heyerdahl had drilled a small hole in the back of the cabinet to thread charging cables through the back. In the mornings on their way out the door, they opened the drawer and retrieved them.

They had breakfast every morning at roughly the same time and Helga was expected to leave her bed made. Sometimes Helga felt like the house was too quiet. But on Friday morning she woke up to the sound of mellow jazz.

It was coming from the living room. Mrs. Heyerdahl was swaying in the kitchen, humming along.

“We do this every Friday morning,” she explained. “I’ve been collecting records since I was in college.”

“Cool. You got any Dino Spumoni?”

“Somewhere in there.” She handed Helga a plate of pancakes. “I’ll keep that in mind for next week.”

Helga hesitated. “Um. Next week we’re supposed to start changing into gym clothes for PE and I… I think I might need a training bra.”

“I was thinking Phoebe might, too. Or at least a sports bra. I’ll pick some up on the way home from work. That way you can try them on in the privacy of your rooms, and we’ll just return any ones you don’t like.”

“That – that sounds good.” Better than good, actually. She’d been dreading going into one of those too small, too bright fitting rooms. Mrs. Heyerdahl had an effortless approach to parenting. Combined, she and her husband came off a little strict, but not overbearing. Helga suspected that they would take Phoebe out to dinner or do something special while she was having dinner at Sunset Arms, so that Phoebe wouldn’t feel as though Helga were getting all of the attention. Mrs. Heyerdahl didn’t even get all fussy. As soon as it was confirmed that Helga’s favorite color was pink and that’s what she wanted for everything, she had gone a bit silly, gushing about how sweet it was to have a girly girl in the house. Hence the mountain of pillows that ended up on her bed in different shades, al festooned with frill or ribbon. It wasn’t too juvenile, though. Thankfully.

 

* * *

 

It was a big day at school. In homeroom they finally got to log in to their school use personal computers. In PE they were getting all their health data, including hearing and vision tests. And everyone who was taking art was whispering about what Ms. Ezza’s surprise could be. Helga’s smock was folded neatly in her backpack, but she anticipated getting it very very messy. Mrs. Hyerdall had even packed a large plastic bag to bring it home in.

No one was prepared to walk into the art room and see that all the tables and chairs had been pushed into the alcove leading to the supply room. The floor was covered in dropcloth, and several large white poster papers stretching from floor to ceiling decked every wall. Kids with smocks eagerly started pulling them on.

“Since it is the first Friday, I thought we could have some fun!” Ms. Ezza smiled around at them all. She’d wisely not set out any paint yet. Standing beside her were a few young people around Mai’s age. She introduced them as art students from the university. “They’re here to experience art and to help me make sure this doesn’t descend into chaos. I only ask that you keep the paint mostly on the canvases.”

Within a few minutes every student had a brush and every canvas had a selection of paints.

Helga stacked the project with a passion. Art, she’d discovered, was very cathartic.

“Hey,” Arnold nudged her. “I like your smock because it’s pink like your bow.”

Helga blushed and nudged him back a little harder than necessary. Her brush left a thin streak of green on his shoulder.

 

*

 

During math they passed notes, Gerald looking on with a bemused expression. Helga rolled her eyes at him.

During lunch they sat together and shared what they got so they each had a bit of everything.

No one said anything. Not even a snicker from Harold, although Helga suspected that was because Arnold managed to score an extra cookie for saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ to the lunch ladies that ended up on Harold’s tray.

 

*

 

Helga was living out her most inelegant and honest fantasies: a world in which Arnold liked her back and she handled it like a normal girl would.

There were still signs of her obsession, of course. Phoebe’s parents gave her a small allowance and she spent it on a set of pink notebooks. The first was already halfway full. Inside the closet in the pink room she stood a football surrounded by flameless candles and a few pictures she’d managed to keep after the Pataki home went mostly into storage. In other ways, her feelings were starting to evolve. When she told Phoebe it was like Arnold meeting her all over again she meant it. Sometimes she surprised herself by sounding too nice and had to shove him out of embarrassment.

Arnold took it in stride. “It’s not like I didn’t know you were nice,” he said as she was leaving the boarding house to join the Hyerdalls, “I’m just not used to you… talking like that.”

“Like what?”

“All… all soft.” He was unable to meet her eyes, blushing. “Your Juliet voice.”

Helga felt her heart stutter. There had been times during the play when she recited lines that were way too close to the real thing. Arnold hadn’t been as good with his lines, but his acting had been believable when it came to responding to her. Once, the final quick rehearsal before curtain, she had been too tired to keep up the front that she was only acting – that whole thing had been so emotionally exhausting, having to pretend that she was Juliet in love with Romeo, it was like miniature security guards were patrolling the carefully constructed wall she had up to prevent real actual love and emotions for Arnold – she just let it slip. The guards had taken a coffee break.

 

_Sweet, so would I –_

_Yet I would kill thee with much cherishing._

 

She said it with real feeling. She meant it. In her heart of hearts she never expected her feelings to be known or returned; she loved too fiercely. She’d crush him with the weight of her feeling.

Arnold had gazed back at her with such awe and happiness that she fudged her next line.

Now, she wondered if he’d started to suspect her from that moment. And she hadn’t killed him. Yet. He didn’t know about the poetry and the shrine. She was careful not to take the locket out again, too embarrassed by it. Suppose he should open it up and read the inscription!

“Yeah, well…” she struggled to come up with something biting.

He grinned at her. She rolled her eyes.

“I really like it,” he added. “Especially since it feels like it’s just for me.”

“Watch it or your ego will get too big for your head,” she snapped, but she was blushing and he knew that he had her. Hook line and sinker. The guards had been relieved of their post.

In the very center of the new closet shrine was a picture of the two of them in the hidden city, festooned with feathers. Arnold’s hand is around her waist. It had been taken during the feat the night after all the comatose parents woke up. Among Stella and Miles’s things had been a beaten up wind and snap camera, still operable. Stella had given it to Helga after the picnic that day. There were other pictures on the film, old. Pictures they’d intended to show Arnold years ago, when they returned.

“I made double copies,” Stella announced. “Arnold wanted the other copy.”

 

* * *

 

Helga declined a ride to Sunset Arms on Saturday afternoon, citing the need to take a walk and get some fresh air. Her real motive was about a block from the boarding house.

The bell above the door tinkled hollowly as she entered Vitello’s flower shop. She had just enough money left over from the allowance for a nice bouquet of something simple, and she had something specific in mind.

“Can I help you pick something out, honey?” Mrs. Vitello appeared with a watering can in hand.

“Do you have any yellow tulips?”

 

*

 

Helga couldn’t help but feel a little smug as she mounted the stoop and knocked on the door. This time, she was the one bringing flowers! 

Arnold answered the door. He was holding something behind his back. Helga craned her neck to see. Arnold angled away.

“Did you bring flowers?”

She held them out. “I figured it was my turn.”

Arnold withdrew his arm from behind his back. Yellow tulips. They stared at the identical bouquets and started laughing. They couldn’t stop for a while. Miles and Arnold’s grandpa came to see what was going on, and once they had calmed down enough, they explained what was so funny. Of course, once they got the story out, they started laughing again. Arnold held his out and they swapped.

“I guess that’s why the lady at the shop gave me that look,” Helga muttered.

Stella put each bouquet in a vase and set it at either end of the table. It was a huge meal, something Greek. Helga served herself a bit of everything and was immediately bombarded by questions about how school was going.

“We had so much fun in art class yesterday,” Arnold said.

“I should hope so, your smock looked like a Jackson Pollock,” Stella said.

“I miss Simmons,” Helga confessed, and Arnold agreed, even though he really liked their homeroom teacher.

“Is the homework hard?” Mlies asked.

“The math is,” Helga added more salad to her plate. It was fresh and she really loved the dressing.

“I have no idea what to do for my book report,” Arnold sulked.

“Me, either, Arnoldo.”

“Maybe we can help?” Ernie offered.

“I don’t do books,” Oscar laughed nervously, helping himself to more of the main dish, slow cooked lamb and potatoes.

“Well, we already picked books. The report part is what’s giving us trouble,” Helga explained. “Rather than a traditional essay formatted report, we have to come up with something creative.”

“I’m sure we can think of something,” Stella said.

Helga and Arnold were excused from helping clear the table. Arnold’s grandma beckoned them into the kitchen, where she had a variety of sundae toppings.

“Can Helga and I go up to the roof?” Arnold asked once he had his bowl.

Stella and his grandma shared a look. Helga blushed.

“Sure. Your father and I will be up in a minute. We’re going to have sundaes, too.”

Helga topped her rocky road with nuts, chocolate sprinkles and caramel syrup. It wasn’t dark yet, but if they waited long enough, they’d get to see some stars come out. The brightest ones, at least. Arnold found some folding beach chairs and positioned them by the skylight.

“Did Mrs. Vitello tell you what yellow tulips mean?” he asked.

“No.”

“Oh.”

“I looked it up before I bought them.”

Arnold didn’t say anything to that, but it was still light enough outside for Helga to see him smile down at his ice cream.

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helga's line in chapter 4 is from Romeo and Juliet, 2.1, 224-225


	5. aster

Helga woke up the next Friday to the sound of Dino Spumoni floating up from downstairs. She hugged a random pillow, blissful, allowing herself to indulge in a daydream about dancing with Arnold at the Back to School Dance that had been announced at school. She danced around the room getting ready for school. She had one more week to submit a proposal for her book report. She’d already finished the book, naturally. She was a fast reader. After school their group of friends were meeting at Arnold’s house so that everyone could brainstorm ideas.

In the kitchen, Mrs. Heyerdahl was making omelets. She handed Helga one with cheese and tomato and one with mostly vegetables to Phoebe.

“Happy Friday, girls. Make sure you take your phones with you, I know you’re going to a friend’s house after school.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Heyerdahl,” Helga reached across the table for the pitcher of juice.

“You can call me Reba, Helga.”

“Oh. Okay.” Helga felt warm suddenly.

“And you can call me Kyo,” Phoebe’s dad said, entering the kitchen with the newspaper under his arm. “And remember, we are going to the theater tomorrow. I have to go on a short business trip starting Monday, so we need to work in some family time.”

Family time.

Helga looked around the table. Phoebe had always been her best friend. Always. In the past month or so, she’d come to realize that family meant more than who she was born to. Arnold’s grandma adored her. She often sent little pastries for Arnold to share with her. Phoebe’s parents had made her feel more than welcome. Kyo and Reba even agreed to go see _Evil Twin_. It was being replayed in a marathon event at the downtown theater. Phoebe and Helga really only wanted to see the original, so they were all going out for a nice dinner after. Mr. Heyerdahl was going to be gone a whole week.

“I will return in time for Back to School!” he assured them cheerfully.

Parents were being invited to meet their childrens’ teachers and tour the school on Tuesday night. Friday night would be the Back to School Dance.

On their way to school, Phoebe hedged around the subject, but ultimately asked the question that she’d obviously been trying to get at.

“Do you think it would be too forward of me to ask Gerald to the dance?”

“I’m surprised he hasn’t asked you yet,” Helga retorted. “He’ll say yes for sure if you ask him. Oh, look. There he is now!”

Phoebe squeaked and blushed.

Gerald and Arnold were walking toward them. They usually met up on this corner and caught the bus together.

“Um.”

“Hey, relax. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll ask Arnold.”

Phoebe stared at her, wide-eyed. “R-really? Helga. That’s. That’s a huge step.”

Helga shrugged.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

Both girls strode forward with more determination.

“Arnold, I – “ “Gerald, would you - ?”

The boys looked at each other, bewildered.

“That is to say – “ “So, listen – “

“Um.” Gerald elbowed Arnold.

“You go first,” Helga finally relented.

Phoebe hesitated. “Well, I was wondering – “

At that moment the bus pulled up.

“Would you like to go to the Back to School Dance with me?” Phoebe finished.

“Wow. Yes.” Gerald held out his hand and they boarded the bus together.

Arnold looked at Helga expectantly.

Suddenly, Helga felt her omelet coming up.  “We’re going to miss the bus, Football Head,” she muttered, shoving him ahead of her. She threw herself into the first empty seat and scowled out the window. Arnold gingerly took the seat next to her, but she ignored him. Internally, she was screaming. Why was it so hard? She thought it would be a piece of cake. Arnold clearly liked her back.

“Helga – did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?” he ventured gently as they sat down in homeroom.

“Buzz off,” she snapped dismissively, taking out her homework.

Dejected, Arnold went to his seat.

 

*

 

Helga avoided Arnold all day. It made her heart ache.

 

*

 

After school, their whole group of friends crowded back onto the bus, noisily chatting about the books they’d chosen for their reports. Helga sat next to Phoebe on the bus, but had a hard time keeping her attention. Phoebe kept looking over at Gerald. The sweet smell of cookies baking greeted them as they all crowed up the boarding house steps. Stella and Miles brought up a few trays with cookies as well as mini sandwiches and juice. They all sat on the floor in Arnold’s room in a big circle. In her haste to avoid sitting next to Arnold, Helga found herself sitting directly across from him. She looked down at her book and blushed hard.

“I don’t even know what book to read!” Harold whined.

“ _Number the Stars_. Duh,” Helga reached across him and took a sandwich. Pastrami. “You can interview your elder relatives.”

Everyone fell silent.

“That’s brilliant, Helga!” Arnold said. He was beaming at her. “Gerald doesn’t know what book to do either. What do you think?”

“ _Maniac Magee_ ,” she answered without a second thought. “It’s chock full of urban legends.”

“I can’t decide between these two!” Nadine added.

 

*

 

By dinnertime, all the kids had their ooks picked out and had input for ideas for their projects. Stinky picked _Hatchet_ and was going to make a demonstration video of what you could do with just a hatchet to survive 72 hours in the wild. Lila picked _Anne of Green Gables_ and was going to put together some traditional turn of the century Canadian recipes on a blog. On the way out, Harold scooped up as many leftover cookies as he could carry. Helga lingered, watching Phoebe with Gerald.  Her thumb froze over the “SEND” key, her message to Reba waiting.

“You were great today,” Arnold said, sitting on the stoop next to her.

Helga pointedly avoided looking at him. “Whatever.”

“I didn’t get a chance to her about what book you’re reading,” he ventured.

“ _Tuck Everlasting_.” She hesitated. “I’m going to paint a series. There’s a lot of color symbolism in the book. Each painting will be monotone.”

“ _Wow_.”

Helga fidgeted, standing bolt upright. “Pheebs. Let’s go home.”

Her resolve wasn’t’ strong enough to last more than a few yards. Arnold was standing by the stoop, looking dejected.

“Is something the matter, Helga?” Phoebe asked.

“Everything’s Peachy,” Helga gritted out between her teeth. Phoebe looked worried, but didn’t press. It was a tense and awkward walk back to the house. It was a tense and awkward dinner, too, especially after Phoe managed to squeak out that she’d asked Gerald to the dance. Kyo and Reba thought it was cute and agreed with each other that their daughter was growing up.

“What about you, Helga?” Reba asked. “Are you going with anyone?”

Phoebe understood immediately, recognizing the stricken look on Helga’s face.

“Helga and I will clear the dishes!” she interrupted, a bit too loudly.

Helga wordlessly carried her plate into the kitchen and started running the water. From the dining room she could hear frantic whispering, and then Phoebe appeared, carrying the rest of the plates, balancing silverware on top.

“I told my parents not to ask any more questions about the dance,” she said.

“Thanks.”

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

Helga dunked a plate into the soapy water. “I just – I thought it wasn’t a big deal. But I couldn’t do it. I chickened out. You should have seen the way he looked at me, Pheebs, all hopeful. I – “ she swallowed back tears and scrubbed furiously at the plate. She didn’t know how to articulate what she was feeling. Her next session with Bliss wasn’t’ until next week.

“I think you’re afraid of losing yourself.”

“Um.”

Okay, that made sense.

“Arnold likes you now. He knows you like him. You mentioned that it feels like Arnold is meeting you all over again, but maybe you also feel like you’re changing into a new person.” She held out her hand for the plate, rinsed it, and put it in the rack.

“Um.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Phoebe assured her. “No one would think less of you. No one does. You never would have helped everyone with their assignments as much as you did today. Everyone liked it, and no one said anything about you going soft. We’re all changing, Helga.”

Helga noticed that she was crying, the suds sinking with the added saltiness.

“Jeez, Phoebe.”

“You don’t have to ask Arnold to the dance, Helga. He’ll ask you, though, so sort out your feelings before you say something to him you might regret.”

They finished washing the dishes in silence.

 

* * *

 

Helga spent most of the next day agonizing over whether or not she should call Arnold. She finally settled on a text message.

 

_Sorry I was being such a jerk yesterday._

 

As soon as she sent it she put her phone on silent mode and stuck it in the drawer downstairs and made a conscious effort to forget it. They went out for dinner and then to the movie theater. Reba and Kyo sat on either side of her and Phoebe and laughed and screamed and put their hands over the girls’ eyes in all the right places. Afterward, they all went to Slausen’s and had a lively conversation about camp horror, Mr. Hyerdall giving an especially impassioned speech about Japanese cult classics. He even promised to find a few to watch at home with the girls over their next long weekend. It was late when they got back. Helga went to the drawer, only intending to plug her phone in for the night, but as soon as she picked it up it lit up with a single message:

 

_Can you come over tomorrow?_

 

*

 

Helga made her way to the boarding house the next day after lunch. Reba and Phoebe had taken Kyo to the airport, so she had the day mostly to herself. She hadn’t replied to Arnold’s text message until morning. It had been a restless night. She was downstairs before breakfast, typing out a very hasty _Sure_ in response.

Arnold was waiting where she had last seen him, and she immediately felt embarrassed, realizing that neither of them had specified a time for her to come over.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out.

“ _You’re_ sorry? I was a class A jerk to you yesterday.”

He shook his head. “No. I mean, yes. You hurt my feelings. But I think I may be coming on too strong lately?”

“That’s not it.”

“Oh.”

“I’m just not used to this. I have a lot going on right now.”

“Yeah.” He picked up something from the step. A small bunch of flowers. Pink. They looked like daisies, but their petals were thinner, their centers fluffier. “Aster,” he explained. “They mean ‘patience’. It’s a promise.”

Helga took them.

“Fuck, Arnold. I don’t deserve you.”

He blushed hotly.

“Don’t say that.”

“I can say ‘fuck’ if I want, Football Head.”

He rolled his eyes. “ _Geraldine_.”

“I’m not used to this,” she remined him. “You liking me back.”

“So get used to it.”

She glared at him.

“I’m serious. This isn’t just a crush because you did something really nice for me. I really like you, Helga. It’s real, and it’s not going away. So…” he looked down at his feet, his confidence slowly plateauing out.

“Oh, _Arnold_ ,” she sighed, the worry from the past two days draining away. She buried her face in the flowers and mumbled something.

“Helga?”

“I said, ‘do you want to go to the dance together’?” she managed.

“Yes. Definitely.”

 

*

 

Reba let her borrow a vase for the flowers when she got back.

“I guess we’ll have to go dress shopping? What’s the dress code?”

“Picture day chic,” Helga came out of her dreamy state long enough to quip. “Nothing fancy, but nicer than what we normally wear to school.”

As she fell asleep that night, Helga considered what Phoebe said. She was right. As evidenced earlier, Arnold was changing, too. Being more assertive. It was too dark to see the flowers, but she could smell their delicate perfume and fell asleep imagining what the dance would be like.

 

* * *

 

On Monday after dinner, Helga called Miriam to catch her up. She wasn’t sure how to tell her that she had an actual date to the dance, so she left that out, but Miriam was the one who surprised her.

“Your father is coming to back to school night since I won’t be able to come.”

“What?”

Aside from the play, she couldn’t remember a time Bob came to the school or participated in anything that wasn’t competitive.

“He’s still having a hard time with the store. It’s looking like he’ll have to sell the real estate because the business is worthless. Our only income right now is from the tenants living at our house right now, and we may lose that if we can’t follow through on the payments.”

“We’ll lose our house?”

“Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“I’m glad you told me.”

“But you’re a kid, honey. There’s nothing you can do. It’s our responsibility to worry about that.”

Helga sank into her mountain of pink pillows and tried to breathe.

“Does dad know what time Back to School Night starts.”

“I’ve been reminding him every day.”

“Okay.”

She wasn’t exactly thrilled about seeing Bob again. They hadn’t seen each other since the hearing. He technically wasn’t allowed to see her, but apparently the family judge had made an exception for a school function because it would prove that Bob cared about being in Helga’s life. Helga scoffed and pulled out her locket.

The photo inside was still frayed and faded. One piece was missing. She couldn’t believe Brainy had managed to get it all back. With lungs like that the kid should never be allowed to swim. She opened the clasp carefully, can her fingertips over the inscription. Her phone chirped.

 

_WARTZ GOT DINO FOR THE DANCE._

 

She grinned and tapped out a reply.

 

 _Sweet_.

 

As soon as she sent it, a feeling of dread washed over her and she went in search of Reba.

“I don’t know how to dance!”

Phoebe peeked her head into the room. “I, too, would like some instruction on partner dancing.”

Reba put down the laundry she was folding. Until dinner time, they played Dino Spumoni on the record player and practiced the basic moves Reba taught them. They ended their lesson laughing and sweating.

“I think we should just get takeout for dinner.”

“Chinese!” Phoebe voted, thrusting her hand into the air.

Helga tucked her very romance-positive fortune cookie into her journal before she went to bed.

 

* * *

 

School on Tuesday was frantic, teachers trying to get everything done before the end of the day. Ms. Ezza’s classroom was transformed into a miniature art gallery. The kids in their class went to Gerald Field after school to kill time before meeting their parents. Helga was relieved to her others talking about their dates for the dance. Harold had asked Patty. Sheena had asked Eugene. Lila was going with Stinky. That was an eyebrow raiser, but Helga said nothing. Stinky was an attentive date.

At 5, they all walked back to school together. Arnold’s parents were already there, as were Harold’s. A few minutes later, Reba pulled up with Kyo, fresh from the airport. He gathered Helga and Phoebe into a big hug. The school doors opened and Helga glanced around nervously.

Bob was approaching them from the corner.

“Hi, dad.”

He nodded gruffly at her. “I’m here.”

“Thank you for coming,” she tried to say it with genuine feeling, but Bob was already heading into the school. Helga felt angry, but then realized that he was too embarrassed to face Miles.

He was curt but polite to her teachers and dutifully looked at everything Helga had produced so far.

“Sorry your mom couldn’t make it,” he said finally as they were done meeting with her math teacher. He sounded as though he actually meant it.

“It’s okay.”

“You just keep doing your best,” he said, patting her on the shoulder. It was a bit awkward, but Helga let it go. He’d been on time, and he hadn’t been rude to anyone apart from ignoring Arnold’s parents, and they’d had the decency to understand.

“Don’t worry about the house or the store, either, you hear? I’m handling it.”

Helga fought the urge to snap. “Okay.”

“Olga’s coming by next week. She wants to see you.”

Helga flinched.

“Oh.”

“I told her to call your friend’s house.”

“Okay.”

Honestly the last person she wanted to see was her sister. She happened to know from overhearing after returning from San Lorenzo that Bob had all but emptied his savings account to give her living expenses for the rest of the semester. At least she’d be able to gripe about it with Bliss on Thursday.

Her dad stiffly thanked the Hyerdalls for taking care of her and went on his way.

 

* * *

 

“I agree that what your father did was wrong, Helga, but that was in the past.”

Helga flopped over the armrest of the couch.

“It would be a lot easier if this was the first time he prioritized her over me.”

“I think you need to make your sister aware of what you’re feeling.”

“I’ve tried.”

“I think you should try just one more time. You are the youngest in your family, so it’s really on everyone else to check themselves in how they treat you, but I need you to try this once and report back to me. I may need to recommend Olga for family counseling.”

Once Miriam finished the first part of her program, she and Bob were supposed to have family counseling with Helga. No one besides Miriam was looking forward to it. Since Olga was over 18 and no longer living full time with her family, she didn’t have to participate. Helga really didn’t want to be part of any therapy that ended up with Olga as the victim and everything about her.

“Fuck my life,” she hissed vehemently as she walked back to the bus stop. She was so angry that she didn’t pay attention as she rounded the corner and ran smack into Arnold.

Of course.

She gave herself a lot of credit for allowing him to help her to her feet.

“I was just on my way to my appointment with Dr. Bliss,” he explained.

“I was just there.”

“How did it go?”

“Ugh. She wants me to try to repair my relationship with _Olga_.” She made a face.

“I think you’re pretty lucky to have a sister,” he began. “But if you don’t like her I’m sure you have good reason.” He took her hand and squeezed it gently. “Can I call you later?”

“Y-yeah. Sure.” She held her other hand tight to her chest, feeling a monologue coming on, but managed to hold it in until he was out of sight. She let the happy feeling carry her all the way back to Phoebe’s house, let it color her mood as they shopped for outfits for the dance. She’d been taking very good care of the asters because she wanted a few in her hair, and found a pink dress to match. After dinner she and Phoebe showed Kyo the dance moves they’d been practicing.

Arnold called just as Kyo and Reba had changed the record and were demonstrating how they danced at their wedding.

“How did it go with Bliss?”

“She’s great. She wants me and my parents to do family counseling, though. They didn’t get much time to be parents, and now I’m older, so… I get why you asked them to let Phoebe’s parents to foster you.”

“I really like them. I just thought that you all needed time to be a family.”

“I really love that about you.”

Helga’s heart stopped. “What?”

“You can be so selfless. I love that about you.”

Helga clutched the phone to her ear and felt herself melt into her pillows. “Arnold, my love! It’s your selfless behavior that inspires me! Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye, and all my soul and all my every part; I am the most selfish being on earth for treating others in kind only for your admiration and notice!”

“Um.”

“Fuck. Forget I said any of that.”

“If you really did nice things just to get my attention, I would have known about Mai ages ago. You’re not selfish, Helga.”

“Um.”

“I have plenty of other examples, so stop putting yourself down, okay?”

“O-okay.”

They ended the conversation by confirming that Arnold and Gerald would be picking her and Phoebe up for the dance the next night. She knew that Arnold was hoping that making it seem like a double date would put her at ease, and it worked.

Her new dress was hanging just inside the closet. New shoes, too. She tried insisting that she would dance more comfortably in her sneakers, but Reba found her a pair of ballet flats that she loved as soon as she tried them on.

 

* * *

 

A brassy swing melody woke her up the next morning. She was in such a good mood that she practically jumped out of bed and started dancing around. She made sure to pack her smock because she was starting work on her _Tuck Everlasting_ series at lunch. Ms. Ezza had been very accommodating when Helga expressed her need for some studio time.

During the day, students weren’t allowed in the gym while it was being decorated and the sound equipment was being put up. News that Dino was making an encore performance at their school spread fast. By lunch the buzz was so distracting that teachers flat out stopped handing out detentions and instead started incorporating the theme into their lessons. During math, Helga calculated the percentage of Dino’s sales from one decade to the next. In PE, their teacher put on swing music and everyone learned swing steps. Helga and Phoebe were experts from having practiced all week, so they were put in charge of the girls. There was a lot of giggling and stumbling as they tried the harder steps and then spied on the boys who were so woefully clumsy Helga felt ridiculous for having thought it was a big deal.

“What is everyone wearing?” Lila asked as they all changed back into their street clothes. The locker room was still weird for all of them; they pretty much stuck to staring straight ahead at the lockers in front of them. “I modified my dress from a thrift store find with some trimmings from my sewing basket.”

“Obviously I’m wearing the latest designer dress,” Rhonda gushed. “I don’t care that I haven’t got a date. I’m going to be best dressed!”

“I’m sure Eugene will wear a suit and bow tie,” Sheena sighed. “I want us to dance like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.”

“Do you… _like_ Eugene, Sheena?” Phoebe asked.

“Oh yes. He’s the sweetest boy.”

“Are you and Gerald boyfriend and girlfriend?” Sheena asked.

It felt like the whole locker room was listening.

“Sort of.” Helga pulled her shirt over her head and glanced over. Phoebe was red. “My parents know that we like each other. And they like him. But they warned me that I’m too young to be calling him my boyfriend.”

“Well I think you two look ever so sweet together,” Lila said. Everyone else murmured their agreement. “Almost as sweet as Arnold and Helga.”

Helga wanted to crawl into her locker and stay there. But no one laughed. Everyone was nodding and smiling.

“Girls are so much more mature about this than boys,” Phoebe whispered as they left the locker room.

Science was the last class of the day. Phoebe went on ahead because Helga wanted to put some library books in the return slot before she forgot later. They made a satisfying thud as they landed at the bottom of the chute and she headed down the hall, hoping that she wouldn’t be late.

“Psst! Helga!” Arnold waved to her from the stairwell.

“We’re going to be late for science, Football Head!” she snapped.

“I have to show you something!” he grabbed her arm and pulled her in the opposite direction of class.

They ended up in a storage closet. A dark one.

“So what did you have to show me, Arnold?” Helga asked, smug.

“Let me find the light switch,” he muttered. She could hear him blushing.

The light snapped on.

“So what am I looking at?”

Arnold pulled her closer to one of the big open boxes. “The personal computers from last year. They’re just sitting here.”

“Okay…”

“I know it’s not my place to say anything, but I know your dad’s business is still…”

“In the toilet.”

“Um. Yeah. So I had an idea. If Wartz is just going to let these sit here or even get rid of them eventually, why doesn’t your dad buy them and refurbish them?”

“That… isn’t a bad idea. Except for one thing.”

“Which would be?”

“My dad doesn’t know how to refurbish old computers.”

“But I know someone who does! And the best part is that he’ll do it for next to nothing!”

“Okay. I might be interested.”

He took her hand and squeezed it. “Come with me after school to talk to Wartz.”

Helga blushed and pulled her hand back. “Yeah, sure.”

He smiled softly at her. “I really wish we hadn’t promised my parents to keep the kissing to a minimum,” he said wistfully.

“What?!” she squeaked.

“I’m totally serious about this refurbishing idea, but I’m also alone in a storage closet with you.”

“What happened to ‘aster means patience’?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He blushed a little deeper. “Easier said than done.”

“How about we come up with something else?” she suggested.

“What do you mean?”

“I want to kiss you sometimes, too,” she explained, blushing. “But we did promise your parents. So, how about when we want to, but it’s not appropriate, we do something else?”

“I’d like that.” He was quiet for a minute, looking down at their hands. He seemed to want to reach for her again. “Oh!” he said. “Here.” He held one hand up, curling his fingers in and his thumb down. “It’s half a heart. Give me yours.”

Together, they made a lopsided heart.

“It’s like a secret handshake for us.”

 

*

 

After class, Helga and Arnold went to Principal Wartz’s office. Thankfully, they hadn’t gotten in trouble for being late to science. Arnold immediately pulled out his cell phone and started firing off text messages as soon as the bell rang.

“Jamie-o,” he explained when Hlega gave him a look.

“Is that who you had in mind?”

“He needs community service hours and he’s interested in business training. Do you think your dad’ll go for this?”

“I don’t’ know. I should probably talk to him, but not before Wartz tells us if we can even have the computers.”

“I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes.”

Helga relaxed. If Arnold was going to be confident, she was going to follow his lead. She held out her hand in the half heart shape and Arnold matched it.

 

* * *

 

Reba played Dino Spumoni while the girls got ready for the dance. At least five of the smaller asters were still fresh. Helga had decided to take a risk and wear her hair down. It had gotten longer recently and Phoebe helped her achieve the look she wanted with a thick barreled curling iron. She saw the Packard pull up just as she was putting her shoes on. She felt nervous, suddenly. They’d technically already been on a date, before school started. This was different, though.

“Helga!” Phoebe called from the bottom of the stairs.

Kyo was taking pictures of his daughter. “Let’s take pictures of you, too, Helga. I’m sure your mom will want to have a copy!” he encouraged. So Helga posed with Phoebe, by herself, with Arnold (in one picture they were holding up their hands in their secret hand heart) and with the others in a group. Miles drove them. As they got out of the car, he held Helga back.

“Your dad agreed to meet with me on Monday about the new business idea, Helga. I think you have reason to be optimistic.”

“Thanks.”

“Have a great time.”

The gym was very festive, with streamers in blue and gold. Stella was already there, chaperoning with Harold’s mom.

“You look beautiful, Helga. I hope Arnold complimented you,” she winked.

“He did,” Helga assured her.

She was actually still lightheaded from what he’d said as they walked into the gym, leaning close enough to whisper over the music, “Am I allowed to call you _Cecille_ when you’re being really sweet?”

As soon as Dino showed up the kids and quite a few of the parents went crazy. The dance floor was flooded. Helga didn’t have a reason to be embarrassed all night. No one gave them more than a passing glance and a compliment on her hair or her shoes. She mainly danced with Arnold, with Phoebe for a while, and even a few turns with Gerald. It was a great night all around and she went right to sleep as soon as they got back to the house.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helga quotes Sonnet 62 in chapter 5.


	6. iris

Helga woke up on Wednesday morning with a sense of dread. She wasn’t sure why. She had slept well. Her homework was done. The vase on her desk was filled with white chrysanthemums. She frowned at the ceiling. Something was nagging at the back of her thoughts. She ignored it and got out of bed, joining Pheobe in their shared bathroom, mumbling good mornings. Helga had no way of articulating it, but seeing her best friend first thing in the morning was comforting. It felt safe, like the times they had sleepovers as kids. Phoebe in her pale blue pajamas, her eyes a little puffy without her glasses, her soft smile when Helga grumbled about the light in the bathroom being too bright. Phoebe was more of a sister to her than Olga ever had been, even when Olga went to Alaska and they’d been making headway.

Olga.

Right.

Helga pulled her hairbrush a little too roughly through her hair and yelped. Phoebe put a soothing hand on her elbow – a reflex lately – and Helga shrugged her off.

“I’m fine, criminy.”

Phoebe looked concerned, but gave a stiff nod and went back to her room. She knew by now to give Helga space.

Olga had called on Sunday afternoon, just as Helga was coming back from Slausen’s. It had been a perfect day.

“I’m back in town for a few days next week, Helga. I told my professors that Mummy is very sick so they’ve all waived my assignments. Did Daddy tell you I was coming? I want to see you and check up on you.”

Helga held the phone as far away as possible while still being able to hear her. “Peachy,” she said in a forced upbeat voice.

The rest of the conversation was a string of high pitched gibberish. Helga tuned back in at the end to confirm that yes, breakfast next Sunday was fine. 9 am. Bob would not be joining them. Sister time. Yada yada. Ugh. She felt like washing her hands thoroughly after she hung up. It had ruined her Monday. She worked on blocking it from her memory on Tuesday, but it had come back around.

Arnold frowned when he saw her at the bus stop. She’d talked Phoebe into helping her braid her hair and stuck a chrysanthemum in, but her face was stony. “Still thinking about what you’re going to say to Olga?” he winced. Helga firmly resisted the urge to snap at him.

“I’ve been agonizing over it all morning.”

“Well,” he gestured for her to take a seat before sliding in next to her, “I might have some good news that will be distracting.”

“Oh?” She perked up instantly.

“Your dad met with Jamie-O on Monday afternoon and _liked_ him. And he was totally on board with our new business plan!”

“Wow.”

Helga sank back against her seat. “That _is_ distracting. What now?”

“Well, your dad said he was going to take the plan to his lawyer. We should know by tomorrow if it’s going to work out. Wartz agreed to sell him the old computers super cheap, anyway.”

“Way to go, Wartz.”

Arnold held out his hand, curved into half a heart. Helga melted a little and matched it.

 

*

 

She spent the rest of the day deflecting thoughts about Olga with thoughts about the store. She indulged herself in a fantasy of it reopening and being moderately successful, Bob taking it easy as young employees fixed old electronics and gave advice to customers about hardware and software, selling them used but still functioning parts at affordable prices. “I take my stuff to Bob’s. They know their stuff,” some yuppie would write in an online Yelp review.

She was also working on her final canvas for her _Tuck Everlasting_ series. The first was in grey monochrome, describing the opening scene of the book. The second was done in lush greens, a picture of the spring of eternal life. The final was her favorite. A stark portrait in bright and sickening yellows.

After school she and Phoebe went straight home and did homework. Reba was out with friends, so Kyo ordered pizza and taught them origami.

 

*

 

Helga woke up on Thursday morning with a different sense of dread. All through the day, she and Arnold exchanged nervous glances. During lunch they crowded together to look at Arnold’s phone under the table. No news. Helga did badly in PE and rushed to her locker at the end of the day. Arnold was waiting for her.

“Jamie-O says your dad’s meeting with the lawyer was supposed to be at 2:45.”

Helga looked at her phone. 3:08.

“Fuck,” she hissed.

“ _Geraldine_ ,” Arnold whispered.

Helga rolled her eyes. “You can say it, too, you know.”

Arnold fidgeted and looked down at his phone. It chimed, but it was only a message from Stella.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

Helga laughed.

They started walking toward Gerald Field to have something to do. Everyone else had already gone ahead of them.

Helga smiled softly to herself. “Back when we weren’t… you know… I’d sometimes wait to see if you were walking home alone.”

“And then you’d sort of walk with me, making fun of me most of the way,” Arnold finished. “I remember.”

“You never told me off,” Helga pointed out.

“I didn’t like walking home alone, and you’re… witty.”

Helga blushed.

“You’re good with words,” he hedged. Helga could tell what he was getting at, delicately walking the perimeter. “You can be a bit reckless sometimes, but you always say what the other person needs to hear.”

She scoffed. “Sure. You totally needed to hear all my digs at the shape of your head and how hopelessly optimistic and clueless you were.”

“I mean when you’re being genuine. Every time you’ve explained your feelings to me you got a little flustered and probably didn’t get to say it exactly the way you planned it in your head, but it was real, and I appreciated it.”

“…thanks.”

Arnold’s phone chirped.

 

*

 

Helga could hardly contain herself at dinner that night.

“Bob said that _I_ can rename the store!”

She already had plenty of ideas, but was thinking of keeping it simple and as on brand as possible.

“We’re so happy for your family. Hopefully this is the start of something good.”

“This calls for the good glassware!” Kyo called out, opening a cabinet and taking out a set of crystal glasses. They clinked them in a toast and Helga went up to bed with a spring in her step.

Bob’s Electronics.

Hillwood Electronics.

Hillwood Electronics and Repair.

Bob’s Refurbished Electronics and Repair.

No.

She clicked off her lamp and sank into her many pillows. If she was going to name it, her name was going to be on it.

Pataki Electronics.

 

*

 

The next two days went by in a blur. She turned in her book report project and gave a brief presentation in English class. Everyone loved it. In art they started a unit on sculpture in preparation for fall holidays – close to Halloween they would have a pumpkin carving contest and before Thanksgiving they would be having a guest artist come in and carve an ice sculpture, live in the classroom. Their first class for the unit introduced them to different mediums for sculpture. Helga spent a very therapeutic hour pounding and pulling at clay. She tried working out in her mind what she would say to Olga, angrily slapping down her blob of clay or pulling at it with satisfaction whenever she thought of a particularly scathing remark.

Saturday was spent at Sunset Arms, helping Miles and Stella sort through and pack up boxes that had been accumulated in their storage area while they were gone.

“I used to hate this room,” Arnold confessed as they cleaned up. “I missed you guys so much, and Grandpa didn’t tell me what really happened until two years ago.”

“We’re here now, honey,” Stella assured him. “And we’re not leaving again.”

“What if the Green Eyed People need your help again?”

“Then we’ll all go,” Miles said, putting a hand on Helga’s shoulder.

They finished the day with another buffet style dinner. The Hyerdalls came, too, and at the end of the night Arnold gave her a bouquet of irises.

“A reminder that you’re good with your words,” he said. They meant eloquence.

They were the first thing Helga saw the next morning when she woke up. She started getting dressed, not caring that her clothes were pressed, then remembered that Olga was an adult member of her family and she needed to show that she was being taken care of. She picked out something else and asked Reba to iron it, then brushed her hair until it was smooth. Phoebe and Reba came with her. They’d be meeting at a diner downtown for breakfast. Even though she’d worked out what she was going to say, Helga’s stomach was turning too much to think about food. She couldn’t help thinking that it wasn’t fair that Olga got to divorce herself from everything that was happening in Hillwood and be off at college where she was able to do a spectacular job of handling university and a social life. No one who knew her could guess that she came from a dysfunctional family. Because she didn’t, Helga reminded herself. She was a teenager when Miriam’s drinking problems really began to manifest, and off at school by the time the bigger bombs started falling. But then, she wouldn’t have noticed. She’d been given everything she needed to be successful and immediately went off and did it.

Phoebe and Reba sat in their own booth, far enough away to provide privacy, but close enough that Helga could still see them.

“I’m so happy to see you, baby sister,” Olga simpered. She was drinking a cup of tea and was wearing what looked like a new jacket. It looked expensive.

“I don’t like being called that, remember?”

“Of course, Helga. I forgot.”

“That’s convenient,” Helga said, picking up the menu.

“That isn’t fair, Helga,” Olga scolded.

Helga hated that tone.

“It’s not, actually,” she said cooly. “You have your own life apart from us, Olga. So you don’t always know what’s going on. But you can’t just forget every time it’s convenient for you. We’re your family. Have some concern for _Bob_ at least. You’re the most important thing to him.”

Tears started rolling down Olga’s face. Helga sensed a whine coming on.

“Look. I get it. No one ever taught you how to deal with this shit. But this is a big deal. Mom isn’t sick. She’s an alcoholic. We’re on the verge of bankruptcy. I don’t know what you thought you were here to tell me today, but I’m not going to hear it. I had to put up with a lot growing up – and I still am. I shouldn’t have had to learn to deal with this shit. I deserved some love. You’ve got enough years on me that you could have looked over and seen that your baby sister was being neglected, but you selfishly soaked up all the attention. I’m in foster care now. I’m lucky it’s with people who care about me.”

She took a deep breath as the waiter approached. “I’ll have the Sunday Special.”

She waited for her sister to take her order and then for a few moments to see if the tears would start up again. They didn’t.

“So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to be more present in this family, even when you aren’t in Hillwood. Call our parents. Talk to them. Make sure they’re doing what they’re supposed to be doing. Take a little of the pressure off me.”

They ate their breakfast in silence except for when Olga broke in to ask details about the rehabilitation program or about the store. It gave Helga maybe too much satisfaction to gloat over how she helped save it.

Before they parted, Helga gave in and allowed herself to be hugged. She wasn’t sure if she’d been able to break through to her – Olga left Alaska after five months – but she knew that she would never have this conversation with her again. Either she learned from it, or they would never be close. Helga couldn’t’ blame her, after all Olga only knew what she was taught.

 

*

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> https://itunes.apple.com/us/playlist/the-girl-with-the-one-eyebrow/pl.u-yZyVWRZuBz48v0


End file.
